


Third Degree Harlotry

by WhiteCeilings



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Porn, Angst, BDSM, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt Steve Rogers, Jealousy, Lies, M/M, Misunderstandings, Open Relationships, Other, POV Alternating, POV Steve Rogers, Porn, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Protective Bucky Barnes, Realistic, Safe Sane and Consensual, Sex Work, Sex Work Positive, Sub Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-07 06:04:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 28,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21453220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiteCeilings/pseuds/WhiteCeilings
Summary: It took five months for Bucky to notice the bruises.Steve started doing porn before he even met Bucky, and learned the hard way that it wasn't exactly the best job to bring up on a first date. Now, they've been together for five months and he still hasn't told him. What Bucky doesn't know won't hurt him... right?AKA an attempt at the most accurate possible depiction of the gay pornography industry, including some of troubles that come with it. Loading with misunderstandings, inappropriate work-place relationships, and Sam Wilson being the best person alive.
Relationships: Brock Rumlow/Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes & Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers/Brock Rumlow
Comments: 47
Kudos: 142





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I've been working on this little gem for a while and I'm excited to finally be publishing it! I have had this idea for a while, but it wasn't until I saw one specific porn video where the inspiration came full circle. In the beginning of that video the actors were casually talking, and one of the actors revealed that his last girlfriend didn't know he did porn, but his current girlfriend found out so he couldn't hide it anymore. 
> 
> This is not only an attempt at recreating an accurate depiction of the porn industry, but also at BDSM itself, including the involvement of full consent and aftercare.
> 
> Extra thanks to my beta PeterParkour!
> 
> Enjoy!

**Steve**

It took five months for Bucky to notice the bruises. 

Everything had been going smoothly. They’d flirted around for a while, went on a date, and before long they had taken it to the next level. Steve’s lease was up and he’s been looking for a roommate when Bucky asked if he wanted to move in. 

Steve had never dated anyone like Bucky before. At first, he’d expected it to be a simple fling— he was physically attracted to Bucky, but he doubted they’d have enough in common to actually make anything serious work out. He couldn’t have been more wrong. It turned out they had a ridiculous amount in common, from favorite tv shows to both being night owls. Steve was used to sexually charged relationships, as he was a very sexual person naturally, but his relationship with Bucky wasn’t like that. It was as if they’d skipped the confusion, misunderstanding, and insecurity of starting a new relationship, and jumped straight into civil partnership. They liked fucking, sure; but they also liked getting lunch together, and going to concerts, and going for walks. They liked laying on the couch together, and texting each other memes because it was easier than getting up. They liked going to trivia nights at their local Buffalo Wild Wings, and fighting each other over the right answers. It had only been five months, but all of their friends already teased them about being an old married couple. They just worked. 

Of course, there were some things that reminded Steve of how new their relationship actually was. They still met each other’s eyes from across the room sometimes, and Steve would instinctively blush and look away. They still didn’t know much about each other’s pasts, because why bother, when you’re in your twenties and living in the moment? And of course, Bucky still didn’t know about Steve’s job. 

Steve had considered telling him, he really had. After they started dating for real, Steve had mauled over it for weeks, trying to decide if it was worth it. The thing was, he wasn’t trapped. He had gotten into the world of porn knowing what he was doing, and he was in a situation where he always had complete control over his scenes, from the kinks present, to the people doing it. He always got accurate medical records regarding STIs before doing a scene with someone, or he didn’t do the scene. The truth was, if Bucky didn’t find out about the porn, it wouldn’t have any negative effects on him, health or otherwise. So really, it was none of his business. 

And maybe Steve knew that was an excuse. Maybe he recognized that he wasn’t exactly being honest with Bucky. Maybe he even realized that the reason he didn’t want to tell Bucky was so he wouldn’t have to see his reaction. Steve wasn’t dirty, and he wasn’t going to stop. Therefore, Bucky didn’t have to know. 

This plan, magically enough, actually  _ worked.  _ For five whole months, Steve played his little game of make-believe, telling Bucky that he got all of his money from his writing job. It was a good excuse, seeing as Steve actually  _ was  _ a writer, with a published book and an editor and everything. He didn’t make much at all from it yet, but as long as he kept doing porn a couple of times a week (during which he told Bucky he was ‘meeting with his editor’), he could spend the days working on his book. 

For five months, everything was perfect, and Steve happily lived his double life. And then, one Saturday evening when they were cuddling on the couch, Bucky hummed a little in confusion. “Stevie? How’d you get that bruise there?” 

Steve, to his credit, did a wonderful job of not freaking out. He frowned, asked “What bruise?” and opened up Snapchat to use as a mirror. Sure enough, he had not just a bruise, but a  _ hickey _ on the side of his jaw, right under his ear. Bucky’d given him hickies before, but not often: this quite obviously was not his handiwork. 

Steve hummed, rubbing his thumb over it. “Huh. I dunno, I probably hit it on a cabinet or something.”

“Or something,” Bucky agreed, sounding only lightly concerned. “Don’t worry, I’ll kiss it better.”

Bucky didn’t push the subject, which Steve appreciated. Bucky didn’t seem to feel even the slightest bit insecure, and why would he? He trusted Steve. 

Steve may have been an awful person.

The next day was a shoot day, so Steve headed out around lunch and made sure to get there early. He did almost all of his shoots at the House, which was a family-style home a little bit out of the way for privacy purposes. 

Steve arrived just when he’d wanted to, and said hi to everyone before singling Rumlow out from the lunch crowd, and dragging him out into the hallway. Rumlow gave him a confused, but still cocky smile, and let himself be led. 

“How’re you doing, baby boy?” Rumlow greeted once they were in relative privacy. 

Steve smiled, a little hurriedly. “I’m good, except for one thing. Bucky saw a hickey, and I’m pretty sure you’re the one who left it.”

Immediately, Rumlow’s cocky demeanor fell, shifting to be replaced by a professional one. “Shit, really?” He asked, turning Steve’s head to see the one he was pointing at. “Aw, sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

Steve stepped back, mollified. “It’s alright. Just be more careful.”

“Ste-e-eve!” A new voice said, and Steve turned just in time to see Sam rushing over, going fast, but slow enough not to spill his Orange Fanta. “Look who it is, my favorite twink!”

Steve scoffed, but accepted his hug. “Don’t act surprised, you knew I was coming over.”

“Aw man, just shut up and hug me. There we go.” Sam pulled back, all light and easy like he had absolutely nothing on his back. He pivoted, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of Rumlow’s mouth. “Baby, when’s the next shoot?”

“1:30,” Rumlow answered, wrapping an arm around his waist. Steve’s heart clenched at their easy affection. “It’s mine and Stevie’s scene, I think Dugan’s on camera?”

“Shit, I told Dugan to go home early. It’s fine, I’ll take camera. And Steve, since I’ve got you here, I wanted to ask about another scene?”

Steve raised his eyebrows, intrigued. Sam only asked him about scenes in person when they were unusual, usually because of specific fetishes Steve hadn’t greenlighted yet. “Yeah?”

“The network is wanting more scenes with piss play,” Sam explained. “It’d probably have strong dom/sub, and obviously, humiliation. It sounded right up your alley.”

Steve considered it. He wasn’t turned on by Omorashi, but he also wasn’t repulsed by it. “I’ll do it on three conditions. One, the piss stays away from my mouth; two, it has to be someone I’ve done scenes with before; and three, they’ve gotta drink a lot of water that day. I don’t want it to stink.”

Sam nodded, making a few notes on his phone. “Cool. I’ll text you when I figure out more of the details. Thanks, Steve.”

Steve grinned. “Hey, what’re friends for, if not to be pissed on?”

He only had fifteen more minutes before the scene, so he went to the kitchen and drank some water, then ducked into the bathroom to prepare. He peed, then used his special enema bulb under the sink to make sure he was fully clean, and finished off with some baby wipes. He washed his hands, checked his reflection in the mirror, then pulled his pants up and went outside. 

That day’s shoot was set to be in the second living room. It was smaller than the main one and more secluded. When Steve got there, Sam was already setting up the cameras, and Rumlow was laid splayed across the small couch. There were a few other small pieces of furniture in the room, plus the exposed rafters to attach ropes to, but in this shoot they’d be mainly using the couch. 

The scene would last for maybe an hour, and would probably be edited down to ten or twenty minutes. It would be an addition to a series Steve and Rumlow had been working on, called  _ Daddy’s Little Brat.  _ In it, Steve and Rumlow pretended to be in a committed relationship, with Rumlow as the almost-stone top. These shoots were fun because Steve really got to play with being a different character, acting like a sweet but naughty sub who needed to be taught a lesson. Today, Rumlow was cleared to do forced oral/anal, do arm bondage on Steve with leather restraints, spank him, and, like in all of the other episodes in the series, call him as many derogatory names as he could come up with. Steve looked forward to it. 

As Sam finished setting up the second camera, Steve peeled himself out of all of his clothes but his boxers, palming himself lightly. All of the lights in the room were on, which slightly ruined the mood, but it was made up for with privacy. At most commercial porn companies, the sets were relatively open, allowing for a half dozen cameramen, directors, and interns to stand with their clipboards and watch the scene take place. Steve had never experienced it, but Sam said it was a total boner killer, which is why he ran his shoots differently. He had three camera angles: one from the front, one from the side, and one adjustable one. The first two were stationary, and would record simultaneously to be edited down later. The last one could be moved as needed, getting close ups and the oh-so-famous between the legs shots. 

“Alright, you guys good to go?” Sam asked, peaking up over one camera to look at them. 

Rumlow grunted and stretched out on the couch, like a cat in a sunbeam. “I’m ready, though I should probably take a shower after this shoot. It’s been… shit, almost a week now?”

“Considerate as always,” Steve teased, stepping into frame. He knew Rumlow was joking— Sam would actually kill him if he didn’t shower every morning, and after every scene. “I’m good to go.”

Rumlow quickly jumped up and went over to the camera Sam was poised at, hauling him in for a kiss. They held the kiss for a moment, both smiling a little, before pulling back and looking at each other fondly. “I love you,” Rumlow promised. 

Sam shook his head, still smiling. “Yeah yeah, you sweet talker. Now go and fuck him good.” 

Rumlow pulled his shirt off, tossing it behind where the cameras could see. “Will do.”

With that, Sam started all of the cameras recording, and they went into the scene. 

Overall, it was a good scene. It started with Steve climbing onto Rumlow’s lap and teasing him, putting on his innocent-sub act as he ground against Rumlow and talked about all the naughty things he’d done. Rumlow let this happen for a little while, groping Steve clinically, before he decided he was tired of it and took control. Steve’s arms were bound behind him and Rumlow dragged Steve’s boxers off, making him bend over the arm of the couch for a spanking. The slaps stung sharply, but were done more for maximum butt-jiggling and noise than actual pain; Steve knew they wouldn’t bruise. After that, Rumlow pulled him onto his knees to suck his cock. 

The scene ended nearly an hour later, after Rumlow physically picked Steve up off the ground to fuck him standing. The arm restraints had been lost nearly thirty minutes earlier, so Steve was able to cling on for dear life and Rumlow pushed roughly into him. Steve came on his chest, with Rumlow coming in his ass, groaning “That’s right, take it just like the little bitch you are” and Steve crying out “Daddy!” Another five minutes later, the scene was done, and the cameras were turned off, the lights brought down to a normal level.

Steve toweled himself off, trying to get the cum off of him before it became gross, then crawled back onto the couch with Rumlow. “Great job guys,” Sam praised, coming over with their water bottles, and a blanket to drape over them. “Great scene. Brock, come find me after your shower.”

Rumlow grunted in agreement, then tugged Steve closer, spooning him. Steve moaned a little— a natural reaction, after all of his exaggerated moaning from the scene— and let his muscles go lax, allowing Rumlow to move him how he wanted. Rumlow tugged the blanket up, almost covering Steve’s face, and rubbed his arm. 

“You want talk, or quiet?” He asked, soft voice contrasting the harsh, militaristic tone he’d used in the scene. Rumlow was tall and muscular, with sharp, toned features, a resting battlefield expression, and a dick like a fucking rhinoceros, but in truth, he was actually pretty soft. 

“I’m good with whatever,” Steve murmured, rolling over to look at him over his shoulder. “I’m actually already pretty content. Just tired. Think I need to cuddle for five minutes, then I’m good.”

Rumlow patted his rear affectionately, muttering his agreement. 

In the end, Steve only laid with him for a good minute before getting up to get his phone. Once it had been retrieved, he returned to continue cuddling, though he opened up his phone while doing it. There was a new message. 

**From: Bucky **

**On a scale of 1 to 10 how much does this woman’s hair look like a poodle? Be honest. **

**Ugh I’m so boooooorrred**

**From now on, I’m done driving. Nothing is worth sitting in the DMV for this long. **

**What are you up to?**

  
  


Steve smiled at the texts, leaning over to let Rumlow read them. Rumlow made an unsure noise. “The lady doesn’t actually look like a poodle. More like… one of those purse dogs.”

Steve laughed, and texted Bucky that. He responded to the DMV thing with sympathy, then responded to Bucky’s question. 

  
  


**From: Steve**

**Aw, sorry bb**

**We’ll just walk everywhere from now on. Better for the environment**

**Just finished up a meeting with my publisher :D! She says so far my manuscript is looking good, there’s just a few things content-wise I need to change.**

  
  


The stuff about the manuscript wasn’t even a lie, since when Steve had emailed him that morning, his publisher had said pretty much that. It just so happened that meeting face to face wasn’t actually required for most of his publishing/editing work, but Bucky didn’t need to know that. 

“I’m judging you,” Rumlow said behind Steve. “There’s something not right about texting your boyfriend while another man’s come is literally still leaking from your ass.”

“You hate me ‘cause you ain’t me,” Steve responded with, climbing up to standing, and feeling his ass. Rumlow was right about the leaking; ew.

“Telling him wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world,” Rumlow promised. “Better than him thinking you’re cheating.”

“He doesn’t think I’m cheating,” Steve promised, then pulled on his robe to go shower. “He’s not even suspicious.”

  
  


————————————

  
  


“I’m worried about you,” Bucky admitted later that night, holding Steve’s arm up with a look of concern on his face. He was looking, of course, at the large fingerprint bruises on Steve’s upper arm, where Rumlow had squeezed while he held him down and fucked him. “Do you think it’s something about your vision? Maybe you need to go in and make sure your prescription hasn’t changed.” 

“My prescription hasn’t changed,” Steve promised, pulling his arm back down and stepping closer to Bucky batting his eyes up at him. “I’m just clumsy. Don’t worry about it, okay? I don’t like it when you’re worried.”

“Not worried,” Bucky lied, pulling his lip in between his teeth. “You remember when we met?”

“When you pulled me out of that fight?” Steve recited, leaning against Bucky’s chest lovingly. “‘Course I remember, jerk. You had such a hero complex back then. Still do.”

Bucky, affectionately, ignored Steve’s jab. “Do you remember what I said to you that night? I said…”

“...Something as pretty as me never deserved to get hurt,” Steve recited, the memory warm and fuzzy like a black and white photo with the edges starting to curl up. “It was real sweet of you.”

“I still believe that,” Bucky promised, rubbing Steve’s back lightly. “I never, ever want you to get hurt, and I promise, unless I get screwed up in the head or something, I will never, ever hurt you.”

Steve’s smile fell a little, thinking about that afternoon, Rumlow spanking him so hard Steve jolted with every movement. He thought about how it’d felt after, all warm and tingly, his nerves wide-awake. It was one of the best feelings in the world, feeling wrung out and aching from a good roll in the hay. He wouldn’t get that with Bucky, though, because Bucky didn’t want to hurt him. Which was fine, obviously. Steve should feel happy he has someone as loving and committed as Bucky. 

For a second, Steve almost said it. He almost opened his mouth and spilled everything, about the videos and his kinks and his lies, and everything, everything. Then he closed his mouth again, swallowed, the words drying up. “Thanks, Buck. My Bucky Bear.”

Bucky snorted, and pulled back, giving Steve one of his playful smiles. “Do you want to go out tonight? There’s this event happening down by the plaza…”

Steve thought of Sam and Rumlow, their easy way of touching, talking. How they kiss before every scene they can, how they don’t have any secrets. He swallowed again. “Sure, Buck. It sounds fun.”


	2. Chapter 2

The next time Steve was suspect, it wasn't because of a bruise. 

They'd been sitting on the couch together, watching a documentary on penguins of all things, when Bucky's hand slid onto Steve's thigh. Steve wiggled a little, both to get more comfy, and to check to see how sore his ass was. His ass wasn’t too sore from the scene with that guy Pietro earlier, but his throat was, and the longer Bucky stroked his hand up and down Steve’s thigh, the less Steve wanted to fuck. There was only so much sex a guy could have. 

Bucky scooted closer, carefully maneuvering Steve to sit on his lap. He nipped at his neck playfully, his hand moving over to palm lightly at the front of Steve’s pants. “How about we take this into the room?”

For a moment, Steve considered saying yes. They could do it fast, get it over with. Sometimes saying ‘yes’ was just easier. 

But that would be wrong, and Steve really was tired. He’d had low expectations from the scene with Pietro since the man was tall and lean, not appearing nearly as muscular as someone like Rumlow, but was sorely disappointed. Pietro was fast, and his dick was almost as long as his stamina. He’d bottomed out multiple times, and Steve had come too early, leaving him aching and overstimulated as Pietro held him up to keep fucking. 

“Sorry Buck,” Steve said, carefully pulled Bucky’s hand off his crotch to rest on his thigh again. “I don’t really want to tonight. I think I’m coming down with something. I could give you a handie, though!”

Bucky adjusted Steve’s body so he was sitting sideways on his lap, frowning in disapproval. “No baby, that’s alright. Do you want me to make you some tea or something?”

Steve was about to say no, when his throat clenched, painful. “Actually, could you? That’d be really nice.”

Bucky kissed him on the cheek, then got up to go to the kitchen. “Anything for my sweetheart.”

  
  


———————————

  
  


Karma was real. Steve knew that, because two days after lying to Bucky about being sick, he became sick for real. 

  
  


**From: Steve**

**I can’t come in today, I’m sick >:( **

**Can we reschedule the shoot? Tell Quill I’m sorry. **

  
  


Bucky knocked on the door, then let himself in, a tray of snacks and drinks in hand. “Hey snookums, how’re you feeling?”

Steve put his phone down, trying not to look guilty. “Shitty,” he said, his voice going a little wimpy and soft. “I wish you could stay home with me. I don’t know what I’m going to do all day.”

“Aw, poor thing. Tell you what, I’ve got a meeting this morning, but I bet I could sneak away after lunch. You want me to pick you anything up?”

Steve made puppy dog eyes. “Get me a smoothie?”

Bucky laughed at him a little, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I can do that. I’ll get one without dairy, so you don’t get sicker.”

“Meh,” Steve pouted. “Fine. Jerk.”

“Punk.”

Steve’s phone buzzed in his lap and he shoved it under the covers. Bucky’s eyes darted to it, then up to Steve, but he didn’t say anything. “I’ll see you soon, make sure to drink lots of water. Bye sweetie.”

“Bye,” Steve said, trying to find a pet name to stick to the end of his sentence, but Bucky left before he was able to. He huffed, and opened up him phone. 

  
  


**From: Sam**

**That’s fine, feel better soon! I’ll push back your scene tomorrow too. Update me if anything changes. **

  
  


**From: Steve **

**Thanks Sam**

  
  


**From: Sam**

**Is Bucky taking care of you?**

  
  


**From: Steve**

**He had to go to work :( **

**He’s coming back this afternoon tho. I just have to be patient**

  
  


Sam didn’t respond after that, so Steve put his phone away. He took stock of the bedside tray Bucky’d left, and admired how thorough he’d been. There was fresh fruit, saltine crackers, water, juice, and a couple other easy to eat foods. There was even a little glass with a flower in it, picked from Bucky’s garden outside. He was too good to him. 

Steve took a picture of the tray and sent it to Bucky with the caption  _ You’re the best <3.  _ Twenty minutes later— when Bucky was walking in to work, probably— Bucky responded with a smiley face. 

Steve watched Netflix in bed for a while before eventually falling asleep. He woke up to the sound of the front door opening, but figured it was just Bucky, so he closed his eyes again, rolling over. 

The sound of combat boots on hardwood floor kept him from falling completely asleep, though. He listened as Bucky walked into the room, the door creaking open. Steve waited for Bucky’s soft, sweet voice asking if he was awake, maybe calling him another sweet nickname—

“Nice digs, sugartits,” a voice that was definitely  _ not  _ Bucky’s said, and Steve jerked up. Standing in his doorway and looking around was in fact,  _ not  _ Bucky, but Rumlow, decked out in camouflage pants, a tight black shirt, and of course, the combat boots. Steve should’ve known better— Bucky wouldn’t wear his combat boots to work. 

Steve blinked rapidly, trying to get the sleep out of his eyes. His head hurt from sitting up so quickly, and he was too tired to really deal with this now. “Rumlow? What are you doing here?”

“I just came to check up on you,” Rumlow promised, still looking around. “Really, this is nice. Where does your boy work at again? Let me guess, corporate? A cushy office job?”

“He works for the government,” Steve said, feeling a mixture of bitterness and pride. “He’s ex-military.”

“Huh, small world,” Rumlow mumbled, coming around to Bucky’s side of the bed. He opened the nightstand, and immediately grinned, pulling out a strand of condoms. “Oh, size large, not bad. How do you like the extra thin ones? I’ve never tried them.”

Steve sighed, slumping down and giving in, accepting that Rumlow was there and it was useless to fight it. “I like them. They wouldn’t work for scenes though; I’m always scared they’re going to wear down.”

Rumlow grunted in agreement and dropped the condoms back in the drawer. He kept rifling through their stuff, offering Steve a tissue from the drawer when he sneezed. “Gesundheit.”

Steve accepted the tissue gracelessly. “Why are you here?”

“I already told you, to check on you. So, Stevie-boy, how do you feel? Do you need a professional opinion about anything?” He mimed pulling on a rubber glove, like he was going to give Steve a prostate exam. 

Steve groaned. “I feel shitty. My head hurts, and I’m all stuffed up.” Rumlow grinned at the innuendo, and Steve groaned again, flopping over. “My  _ nose  _ is stuffed up. I sound like a smurf.”

“It’s a good look,” Rumlow promised. “I actually did have something else I wanted to talk about, though.”

Steve sat up, interested. “Yeah? Did you and Sam finally decide to get hitched?”

Rumlow chuckled awkwardly, shaking his head. “That’s related, but not important right now. Basically, I’ve been looking into some… other ventures, other ways to make money, you know? I wanted to hear what you had to think.”

“Step into my office,” Steve said, gesturing grandly at the bed. “I’m all ears.”

Rumlow climbed on with him, making himself comfortable. Steve bit his lip at the realization that Rumlow was on  _ Bucky’s  _ side of the bed, but they were just friends. It was fine. 

Rumlow clapped his hands loudly, his eyes bright. “So. What do you think about stripping?”

Five years ago, Steve might have choked on his juice. Now, he just cocked his head in interest. “I don’t know, I’ve never actually been to a gay strip club. You were thinking of getting into it?”

Rumlow shrugged. “Maybe. I definitely want to give it a shot. But do you think I’d be any good?”

Steve scoffed. “Now you’re just fishing for compliments.”

“It’s a genuine question!” Rumlow swore, putting his hand on Steve’s knee. “Come on, what do you think?”

Steve made himself consider it,  _ really _ consider it. Rumlow was pretty comfortable in front of the camera, cocky and relaxed for an audience. And whenever they’d been to big events together, it had only seemed to fuel him. Not to mention the fact that Rumlow was very very comfortable with being naked in front of people. Steve had heard of people switching in between different jobs in the sex industry, and it wasn’t all that uncommon for someone in porn to try out something like stripping. “Sure,” Steve said, coming to a decision. “I don’t see why not. I think you’d make it look easy. Are you thinking just stripping, or…”

“I don’t think I want to actually have sex with people,” Rumlow said, leaning back. “Like, porn is fine because you can do background checks, and folks in this industry are usually good people. You don’t get that with hooking.” He tapped Steve’s leg. “I was thinking about doing cam work, though. Live stuff, getting off in front of an audience.”

“I used to do that,” Steve admitted. “It worked well, especially when I was sick—”

He fell silent as he heard the front door open. Flipping his phone over, he hissed at the time—  _ 12:45.  _ He should’ve realized how close to afternoon it was, should’ve planned better. “Bucky’s home!” He hissed. “Hide!”

The thought of not lying to Bucky, as always, crossed his mind, but Steve shoved it down. It would look really bad for Bucky to walk in to find Rumlow in their bedroom, being introduced as Steve’s friend when Bucky had never even  _ heard  _ of him. Not to mention that Rumlow was probably the least conspicuous person Steve had ever met. Not only was he huge, he  _ looked  _ like a porn star, and he was way too flirtatious for Bucky to come to anything but the worst conclusion. 

Rumlow jumped up, silently slipping into the closet and closing the door most of the way right as Bucky stuck his head in the room. “Hey, honey, I wasn’t sure if you’d be awake. I brought you your smoothie.”

Steve smiled at him, leaning up to kiss him before accepting the smoothie. It was strawberry banana, and Steve sucked it down appreciatively. “Thanks, Buck. The cold really helps.”

Bucky smoothed back Steve’s hair, testing the temperature of his forehead. “I’m glad I could help. Anything else I can get you?”

“Now that you’re here, I don’t need anything else,” Steve purred. Behind Bucky, Rumlow stuck his hand out the closet door, making a thumbs up. “Kiss me again?”

Bucky’s smile only widened, and he leaned down to give Steve a longer kiss. When he pulled back, he was chuckling. “Are you trying to get me sick too so I can stay with you?”

“You found me out,” Steve teased. “But actually, could you get me some Emergen-C? The orange type. And can you heat it up in the microwave, and add honey?”

“Sure,  _ sweetie pie, _ ” Bucky said. He kissed Steve’s hair, then left to do that.

As soon as he was gone, Rumlow sneaked out of the closet, giving Steve a knowing grin. Steve gestured at the bathroom. “There’s a window that opens in there, scram. You should definitely get naked for strangers online and at strip clubs.”

“Sounds good,  _ sweetie pie _ ,” Rumlow mocked. “Feel better. Text me.”

“Suck a dick,” Steve said affectionately. 

Rumlow ducked into the bathroom, and Steve heard the window open and the man climbing out. As soon as the window closed, Bucky was back in their room, giving Steve his drink. He frowned in the direction of the bathroom. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

Bucky shook his head. “Nevermind. You want company, or to be left alone to sleep?”

Steve considered, then patted the bed beside him. “Cuddle me?”

Bucky chuckled. “Always.”

  
  


————————————

  
  


Steve ended up remaining sick for the next three days, and then on the fourth he wasn’t allowed to come in to film because he was still congested. So he loaded up on meds, said goodbye to Bucky, and tried to be as productive as possible. He cleaned the couch, did more writing, and then went through their mail.  _ That  _ reminded him that it was almost time to pay rent, and because of the past few days being out of work, plus a delayed paycheck, he was behind on his portion. He thought about what Rumlow had said, and ten minutes later he had his webcam set up.

He didn’t want to deal with doing anything live, so he texted Sam, asking what he thought about posting a masturbation video on the channel. Sam texted an affirmative, and Steve started recording, licking his hand and going to town. He started with jerking himself off, but he’d been bottoming for so long that just that basic stimulation didn’t feel like enough, so he got out a plug. He had just come when the front door opened, and he smiled lazily off camera. “Hey baby,” he greeted, right as he closed his laptop. He’d send the video to Sam later. If Sam wanted, he could crop it so it ended after Steve came and before Bucky arrived, but at the same time, Steve doubted he’d make that decision. The ending could be seen as an exhibitionist kink, someone getting caught masturbating. 

Bucky yelled through the house “Hi sweetheart! How are you feel—” he turned the corner and stopped, looking at Steve's expression, the come splattered across his stomach, and the closed laptop in front of him. “Getting started without me?”

Steve grinned. “May-be.”

“Mind if I join?”

“Please do.”

Steve ended up coming again twenty minutes later, riding Bucky’s dick while they made out lazily against the headboard. After, they laid in bed together, cuddling and touching all over as they came down from their high. 

“Hey Bucky?” Steve whispered. “I love you.”

  
  


——————————

  
  


Things were great for the next few weeks. Steve got the check for his masturbation video quickly enough that he didn’t have to take any money out of savings for rent, and the next day he was back to work. A few days later, he and Sam did an intense scene where Steve was put under sensory deprivation and strapped down to a bed. They did some impact play on his legs and inner thighs that left marks, as did the restraints around his wrists and ankles, but Bucky didn’t bat an eye when Steve wore long sleeves. It took a few days for the bruises to heal, but during that time Bucky pushed for sex once. Steve told him he wasn’t in the mood, but he was very very happy to give him a blowjob. If his noises stood for anything, Bucky enjoyed it immensely. 

They both were pretty tired the next week, as Steve not only had extra shoots to catch up on, but also a deadline for his book coming up, but the next Monday Steve walked into the bedroom to find Bucky shirtless, propped up on the pillows. “C’mere,” he said, and Steve felt just a tiny shiver run up his spine. He knew Bucky wasn’t really into any sort of kink or dom/sub stuff, but he still liked when Bucky told him what to do. 

Bucky had his laptop open, and he moved it so Steve could join him on the bed, before moving it back so Steve could see it. Steve immediately knew that was a mistake, as the laptop was open to PornHub. 

“Bucky—” Steve started, but Bucky cut him off. 

“Stop, I know it’s weird,” he said. “I just— it seems like your not in the mood for sex a lot. Which is fine, really. I just thought that maybe it’s because our sex is repetitive, and I thought that if we watched some videos together, maybe you could show me some different things that you’d like to try?”

Steve bit his lip. On one hand, he wanted to talk about that with Bucky, maybe see if there were some things outside Bucky’s comfort zone he’d like to try. And he didn’t want Bucky to feel rejected, after making this effort. But…

Porn. 

“I guess so. How… how often do you watch porn?”

Bucky shrugged. “Maybe a few times a week, when I’m single, but I haven’t been watching it much since we’ve gotten together.” He smirked, leaning closer and teasing Steve with the promise of a kiss, without moving close enough to actually kiss him. “Why would I need to? I’ve got you.”

Steve licked his lips, deciding he could play along. “Alright.”

“How much do you watch porn?”

That was a loaded question. Whenever a new video was posted that had him in it, Steve was emailed the link, and he sometimes skimmed through them to see how his acting was and to see what he can do better the next time. Doing that was how he learned to really exaggerate his O-face, and to arch his back whenever possible. Aside from scenes that had him in it, he didn’t watch porn too much, and when he did it usually wasn’t for the purpose of getting off. “Not often. When I jerk myself off, I usually use my imagination.” 

“What do you like to imagine?” Bucky teased. 

“I don’t know,” Steve said, leaning in and putting his hand just a few inches from the slight bulge in Bucky’s pants. “What do you think I imagine?”

Bucky’s brain seemed to short out at that, and he ended up staring at Steve for a few long seconds before it restarted. “Um. Right. Yeah, we should… we should watch that porn now.”

“Or we could just act it out in real life,” Steve suggested, scooting his hand closer to Bucky’s bulge. He still had some hope they could avoid watching the videos. “And I could tell you what I’m into after?”

“We should definitely talk about it,” Bucky agreed, “But I want to do this. C’mon, just a few videos. Then we can do whatever you want.”

Steve smiled, but it was hesitant. “Okay.”

Bucky started scrolling through the videos on the main page, looking to see if anything interested him. Meanwhile, Steve did his best not to chew on his nails. He kept out an eye for anyone he recognized, but so far, he was good. Thousands of videos were uploaded to the site daily, what were the chances of finding one of his?

“Let’s use the search bar,” Bucky decided, clicking the button. Immediately, a list of some of the most popular searches came up. It was always a list of keywords people used to find the same video, whatever was most popular that day. This open seemed to have something to do with… lawnmowers?

“People are into some weird shit,” Bucky commented, his fingers hovering over the keys. “What do you usually look up?”

Practically every single one of Steve’s videos was labeled under  _ BDSM, Daddy,  _ and  _ Dom/Sub  _ so none of those would work. Steve’s mind blanked— he needed to choose a term that wouldn’t come up with his videos. 

“Um,” he said intelligently. “Latino?”

Bucky gave him a weird look. “Why are you looking up Latino porn?”

“They’re attractive,” Steve defended. “Okay. Okay. How about… I like watching videos with two beefy guys fucking, like, top versus top.”

Bucky nodded and typed in the appropriate search terms. He started scrolling through the videos, and clicked the third one down. “Here you go, ‘Two Beefcakes Fight For Dominance’.”

“Great,” Steve squeaked. 

They started watching the video. The actors weren’t anyone Steve recognized, and the production was done by a completely different company. Sam technically owned a ‘studio’ that had agreements with different sites that bought his videos, so most of Steve’s videos were on those sites, though Steve knew a lot of his videos had also ended up on PornHub. It was like the old saying, all roads lead to Rome. 

Except with porn. 

Steve’s attention was split in three; one part of him was watching the video for its content, one part of him was looking for hints about the production, and one part of him was watching to see Bucky’s reactions.

On the screen, the alpha male wins out, pushing the other beefcake to the ground. There’s some slapping around, some foreplay, and then the alpha is lubing up and trying to push in. It takes a lot of work, and seems pretty uncomfortable, which means the other man definitely didn’t get enough stretching off-camera— if any. Steve cringed. 

“Do you like this scene?” Bucky asked, still watching with vague interest. 

Steve gritted his teeth. “I don’t… dislike it. The concept is good, and I like the domination piece. But as a bottom, I’m cringing.”

Bucky huffed out a laugh. “Alright, we can choose something else.”

He scrolled down, choosing a video called ‘Big Buff Top Dominates Other Top And Makes Him Cry’. Steve rolled his eyes at the title, and then the video started to play. 

“Maybe we shouldn’t watch this!” Steve squeaked as soon as he saw the actors. 

Bucky didn’t even look up. “It looks interesting, let’s just see.”

Maybe there was something else Steve could have said to distract Bucky, but in that moment he felt trapped, unsure of what to say or do. He wasn’t in the video, thank God, but Rumlow  _ was.  _

_ _ On screen, Rumlow shoved another equally big man against the wall, pinning him there by his neck as he used his Dom voice, degrading and straight up threatening the other man. Steve didn’t recognize the bottom, but he recognized the way Brock was standing, the tone of his voice: he was going to fuck this guy up. 

The entire scene was about fifteen minutes, but it was intense the whole way through. Brock manhandled the bottom roughly, fully aware that a guy that size could take a few hits. He threw him down on the floor, kicking him hard in the side and grabbing him by the hair, forcing him to lick his boots. All the while, the names and insults spilled off his tongue. Rumlow didn’t call him the usual ‘desperate slut’ spiel— instead, he was going full ham, not holding back in the slightest and he compared him to a garbage dump, calling him an idiot and a whore, insulting the way he looked and insulting his family. The man was crying before he even got Rumlow’s dick in his mouth. He only sucked him for a few moments before Rumlow threw him back, saying he couldn’t even do  _ that right.  _ There was a jump in time, and the man was shown tied up in brutal bondage. He stayed in the bondage as Rumlow beat him with a paddle, and then finally, fucked him. As promised, the man cried. 

Bucky paused the video before Rumlow could come, turning to look at Steve with a slightly puzzled expression. “So. Is that what you like?”

Steve coughed, surprised. “Shit, no. That’s kind of… intense, don’t you think?”

Bucky nodded, relieved. “Yeah. Yeah, definitely.”

“I didn’t like the dirty talk,” Steve admitted. “And it looked pretty painful, like it wasn’t fun for the… the bottom.”

“Right,” Bucky agreed. “What did you like?”

Was Steve really going to do this? Just… admit his kinks to Bucky? Sure, he’d talked to plenty of people about kinks before, and done most of them, but Bucky was pretty vanilla. Steve didn’t want to intimidate him. 

“I guess I liked the dominance,” Steve admitted. “When R— the top told the bottom what to do, and like, dragged him around and stuff. That was hot. But again, it was too rough, like he didn’t even care about his sub. I didn’t like that.” When he looked up, Bucky was smiling at him. “What?”

“You just want to be cared for,” Bucky cooed. “Alright baby, I think I hear what you’re saying. Do you think you’d like taking orders, if I tried to make you?”

“I think so,” Steve said, less confidently than he actually felt about that statement. “I think I’d like to have you Dom me sometime, maybe. If you felt comfortable with it.”

Finally, Bucky leaned down and Steve got that kiss he’d been teased with. “I’ll think about it,” Bucky promised. “I just want to make you happy.”

“You already do.”

  
  


————————————

  
  


One day, Bucky came home with a big grin on his face. He dumped his stuff by the door, kept his boots on, and marched over. Steve was sitting on the couch working on his book then, but Bucky happily moved Steve’s laptop from his lap so he could straddle him, just slightly crashing Steve. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Steve greeted, smiling despite the crushing. “Fun fact, my name isn’t Santa, so I don’t know why you’re actually sitting on my lap.”

“Fun fact, shut up,” Bucky said, making Steve immediately shut his trap. Bucky booped him on the nose, his grin toning down just a little to be more serious. “I got the promotion.” 

The night was one of celebration. Bucky took Steve out to a fancy restaurant for dinner, and afterwards they went for a walk around the park, arm in arm. Eventually, they let go of arms so Bucky could loop his arm around Steve’s waist, tugging him in close. Steve liked that even better. 

“So,” Steve said decidedly. “James Buchanan Barnes, what do you want your future to look like?”

Bucky chuckled. “Jeez Steve, no warm up whatsoever. I guess I want to work my way up to a more managerial position in my job. I want to buy a house. And I want to get married.”

Steve laughed a little, even though his heart was flipping in his chest. “How old-fashioned of you.”

“I’m an old-fashioned guy,” Bucky said smugly. He looked down, his smile falling slightly. “I know we’ve only been going out for a few months, and I don’t want to scare you, but… I don’t know. I could see myself being with you long term.”

“Me too,” Steve admitted quietly. “I really like what we have. I mean, we could try going the next step in our relationship? Something besides marriage, what have we skipped?” 

Bucky thought about it. “We could move in?” He teased. 

“We already did that. I haven’t met your parents yet, how about that?”

Bucky shook his head grimly. “They don’t support me being gay. They went to my college graduation, but since then we haven’t seen each other. I guess they’d hoped I would grow out of it.”

Steve nodded, looking down at the sidewalk. His mom had been supportive of him for as long as she’d been alive, but he’d had friends in Bucky’s same situation. Sometimes, people just couldn’t get over one little detail, and it ruined the whole relationship. 

Bucky exhaled shakily. “I’m glad I told you that. I… it’s hard living with a secret like that. I just don’t like talking about it. It almost gives it power, you know?”

“I get it,” Steve agreed. “I… I have secrets too. Sometimes you just don’t want to ruin a good time with sad things.” Sad things like how Steve broke down after his mom died. Sad things like how he thought things would never get better. Sad things like how he stopped getting close to people, pushed his friends away, refused to even  _ think  _ about dating or sex or anything like that. Sometimes, that was still Steve’s go-to response to trauma, just balling himself up and pushing everyone else away. Whenever he went to work to shoot a scene, he went with his head high in rebellion.  _ I can do this,  _ he would think.  _ I can have friends. I can get close to people. I can be intimate.  _

“I’m sorry,” Bucky muttered, squeezing him closer and kissing his hair. “I promise that if I could, I would go up to all of your problems and punch them in the face.”

That surprised a laugh out of Steve. He took Bucky’s hand again, squeezing it tightly. “I don’t think that would work, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

  
  


———————————

  
  


The next day, Steve was pissed on. He ended up doing the scene with Sam, who slapped him without force, making him get on his knees. They did the scene in the basement, which was set up to look like a dungeon, and was the perfect setting for more intense scenes. It also had a drain in the floor, which meant that they could easily wash away the evidence of this scene when it was done. 

After Sam pushed Steve to his knees, he made him answer questions, and whenever Steve got them wrong he shot him with a nerf gun. The bullets weren’t hard enough to bruise, but they were hard enough to make him clench up in anticipation, which only made the vibrator buzzing against his prostate all the more intense. Whenever Sam actually did let a nerf dart go and it hit Steve’s shoulders, or his calves, or his  _ ass,  _ Steve flinched and cried out. Pretty soon, he was ready to come, but the rubber cock ring prevented it. 

Sam waited until he got Steve begging, swearing that he was an ignorant little slut, before he turned the vibrator on low. Then, with a calm hand, he jerked himself off over Steve’s back, and almost without pause, he pissed on him. As promised, no piss came near his mouth. The scene ended with Steve wrecked and humiliated in the best ways— and without having gotten to come at all. 

After the cameras were off, Sam came over with a warm-water hose and sprayed Steve off, saying “That’s right, you did a good job, you pretty little bitch.” Steve usually didn’t like continued scenes off camera, but he trusted Sam enough to be okay with it. Once the various fluids were washed off of him, Sam sat down, dragged Steve into his lap, pulled the cockring off, and turned the vibrator up to high. He stroked Steve until he came thirty seconds later, whiting out for a minute. 

He didn’t pass out, but he did push into a different part of his mind. When he came out, at least fifteen minutes had passed, and he’d been moved to the couch in the corner of the basement, where he was drooling on Sam’s chest. A blanket was pulled up to his shoulders and he was wearing a fresh pair of boxers.

“Hey pal,” Sam said softly, “You back with us?”

Steve made an incohesive sound. He wasn’t quite ready to talk again. 

“Can you drink some water for me?”

Steve angled his head so Sam could feed him from a water bottle. He drank until Sam pulled it away, and then something was pressed against his lips. 

“It’s chocolate,” Sam said, “Go on, it’s good for you.”

Steve took the chocolate, and was delighted to find that it was dark, not milk. He liked a little bitter with his sweet. 

“I feel like I haven’t seen him in a subspace this deep for a long time,” a new, but familiar voice commented from the end of the couch. Steve whined and cuddled up closer to Sam, who shushed him and pet his hair affectionately. 

“It  _ has _ been a while,” Sam agreed, sounding wary. “We’ll definitely have to do a significant debrief later. But we don’t have to do that now, do we Stevie?” Steve shook his head, which lead to more cooing and petting. “By the way, Brock just came down to talk, but if you want I can send him away until you’re out of space. Do you want me to send him off?”

Ugh, so much communication; it was exhausting. Steve shook his head, because Rumlow was safe and could stay, and then wiggled his feet. Rumlow got the message and scooted close enough to put Steve’s feet on his lap. A moment later there was a cold lotion on his skin, with Rumlow rubbing it in soothingly. Steve let out a deep breath, allowing himself to completely relax. 

Some more time passed before Steve fully came back to himself. He opened his eyes, looking around, then gave a shy smile to Sam. “Hey. I’m back.”

“Hey,” Sam greeted, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “You were out for a while there, was there something wrong with the scene? I know piss play is sort of out of your depth.”

Steve had to turn to the side to cough, which just made Sam look more concerned. He tried for his best, most winning smile as he said “No, it was actually really good! I definitely didn’t mind the piss as much as I’d expected. I guess I was just overdue.”

That seemed to make Sam feel a lot better. “Alright. But I want you to text me tomorrow and let me know what you think after sleeping on it. If you want me to add piss play to your green list, that’s great, but we can also officially move it to your red list.”

Steve nodded against his chest. “Sounds good. I’ll text you.”

On the other end of the couch, Rumlow squeezed Steve’s feet, which were still on his lap. “I’m glad that’s all figured out. Now that you’re back, Stevie, I thought I’d let you know that your phone’s been blowing up.”

Steve jerked up with a “What?!” immediately grabbing for his phone. Rumlow passed it over, and Steve cradled his head in hand as soon as he saw the home screen. Not only did he have multiple missed calls and a dozen unread texts, but the time was right there in his face:  _ 7:34pm _ . 

“Fuck,” he groaned, opening up his texts. They were all from Bucky, who was wondering where he was and why he wasn’t home yet. Steve had been doing most of his shoots in the afternoon, when Bucky was at work, so he didn’t need to tell Bucky every day what time the shoots were. But of course, they only did their  _ dungeon  _ shoots at night, when no natural light could get in to ruin the aesthetic. Steve had left at 5, when Bucky wasn’t home yet, and the shoot had started around 5:30. Estimating the amount of time it took to shoot, Steve had to have been in subspace for anywhere from fifteen minutes to an  _ hour.  _ Which was just another hour for Bucky to panic. 

**From: Steve **

**I’m so so sorry!!**

**I’m fine sweetheart, I swear. My editor was really busy this week so she asked me to meet up at 6, I completely forgot to tell you and I turned my phone off for the meeting so it wouldn’t distract me. **

  
  


Hopefully, Bucky would see how serious Steve was about being sorry. Steve never used pet names (that was more of Bucky’s thing), and he wasn’t the type to apologize for little things. 

Bucky responded immediately. 

**From: Bucky **

**Oh thank God**

**STEVE! I was so worried!**

**I came home expecting you here and you were gone and you didn’t respond to my texts for two hours! **

**Did you realize you left the front door unlocked?**

Steve put a hand to his forehead,  _ fuck.  _ He had been running a little behind— he must have forgotten to lock the door. That probably was the absolute worst thing he could have done, aside from writing a ransom note and leaving it on the middle of the counter. 

“Fuck me,” Steve said aloud, and the others must have realized how serious the situation was, since they didn’t make the obvious innuendo. “Bucky’s really freaked out. I gotta go  _ now _ .”

He got up, but before he could get anywhere Sam was grabbing his wrist, pulling him back. “Hey,” he said, all business. “Shower first. Maybe on a normal day you could wait until you get home, but not after this scene. Bucky can wait an extra five minutes.”

More like ten minutes, because Steve would have to blow dry his hair after, but Sam had a point. 

By the time Steve actually managed to get home, it was after 8. He stepped inside, feeling guilty as a sinner, and instantly he was engulfed by Bucky’s arms. 

“Fucking punk,” Bucky muttered, “What am I going to do with you?”

  
  


————————————

  
  


It turned out that Steve was still not done with aftercare. As soon as he got some food in him, he made Bucky fill the tub so they could bathe together. 

Bucky seemed to feel a lot better than he had before, but there was still an air of nervous energy around him. Hopefully, the bath would be good for him too. 

“I’m not attacking you,” Bucky swore, once they were submerged and Steve was sitting beside Bucky, head resting on his shoulder, “But I do gotta ask: why do you turn your phone off when you meet with your editor?”

Uh,  _ shit _ . 

“I just don’t want to get distracted by a bunch of notifications popping up,” Steve answered.  _ Or ruin the money shot of a two-hour scene just because you’re calling to ask what I want for dinner.  _

Bucky hummed unhappily. “Could you change it so you can still get texts from me, but not other people? Sweetheart, you really worried me.”

Steve chewed on his bottom lip. “I… I don’t know. Let me think about it?”

Clearly, that wasn’t the answer Bucky’d been wanting, but he set his jaw and nodded. “Fine.”

“Work was really intense today,” Steve admitted, hoping that a little bit of vulnerability would help make Bucky less angry. “Cuddle me?”

  
  


———————————

**Bucky**

  
  


It took two months for Bucky to notice the bruises. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter:  
\- Steve lied about being sick (to get out of sexxxxxx)  
\- Steve actually became sick (complete with smoothies and a surprise visit from Rumlow)  
\- Rumlow wants to make more money, potentially by stripping  
\- Steve's cam session  
\- watching porn together   
-piss play scene! With aftercare  
\- Steve coming home late  
\- Bucky is suspicious


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter! Thank you for all of your wonderful comments!

**Bucky**

It took two months for Bucky to notice the bruises. 

Steve was one of those people who got injured easy and bruised dark. He practically always had a spattering of bruises, whether it be on his ankles, or his biceps, or even sometimes his  _ ass.  _ Steve was also one of those people with a variety of ailments, one of which included iron deficiency, so it made sense why he bruised so easily. Bucky still didn’t quite understand how he managed to get so many interestingly  _ placed  _ bruises, but some things just didn’t have an explanation, and that was alright. 

Until one day, Steve showed up with a hickey. 

The hickey was placed on his jawbone right below his ear. Fact: it was 100%, completely,  _ definitely  _ a hickey. Fact: Bucky didn’t remember putting a hickey there, or ever even  _ kissing  _ there. Query: Maybe someone  _ else  _ put the hickey there. Except when Bucky asked Steve about it, he didn’t seem to think the hickey was anything important, so Bucky let it slide. 

Then one day, there was a large hand-shaped bruise on Steve’s arm. And another day, there were dark bruises on his ass. Sometimes Steve wore long sleeves and pants to cover dark splotches on his wrists and ankles, and Bucky really really didn’t know how clumsy Steve must have been to get  _ those,  _ but he was impressed. As time went on, Bucky spent more and more time trying to figure out what was going on with Steve. He thought for a while it was a self-harm thing, and that’s why Steve was so embarrassed to talk about it. But Steve didn’t  _ seem  _ depressed, so Bucky didn’t think that was it. He also considered that Steve was cheating on him, but he found that hard to believe too. It just didn’t fit— he didn’t see Steve as the type of person to do that, not when he looked at Bucky like he hung the moon and all the stars. 

There were other hints too, like how Steve always turned his phone off when going to meet with his editor, and how Steve’s mood changed so much. Some nights he was frisky, wanting Bucky to fuck him and kiss him and call him baby. Other nights, he just wanted to be cuddled, but it wasn’t normal cuddling. It was like Steve needed to be  _ held,  _ like he’d worked his ass off physically and emotionally, and was completely exhausted. Now, Bucky wasn’t a writer, but he was pretty sure that was a bit of a dramatic reaction just from a day of drafting. 

There were other days too, the bad days, the days Bucky had to remind himself to be extra gentle with Steve. Those were the days when Steve looked up at Bucky with dark circles under his eyes, the small smile playing across his face ingenuine. Interacting with Bucky seemed to exhaust him, so on those nights Bucky was extra sweet, not asking him anything hard and just letting him relax. He didn’t want their relationship to stress Steve out. 

All in all, over the span of seven months, there was only one conclusion Bucky came to: Steve was hiding something. 

The closest he ever got to finding out the secret was on the day he got his promotion. They’d gone out on a date and walked around the park, and Steve had admitted that there was darkness in his past. He didn’t tell Bucky about it, or even hint what it was, but by the way he said it Bucky was pretty sure it was still plaguing him. Or rather,  _ they  _ were still plaguing him, because from Steve’s tone, it seemed to be something personal, some sort of interpersonal relationships. But Steve didn’t say anything else, and Bucky didn’t want to push. 

If he had to guess? Steve was involved with the wrong sort of people. It would explain the bruises; it would explain why Steve couldn’t tell Bucky about them. It would explain so much. Someone, somewhere, was blackmailing Steve, forcing him into a situation he couldn’t escape. 

Bucky thought that was the case, but really, what evidence did he have? He couldn’t just come right out and make an accusation like that. He was probably overthinking it, and Steve was actually just clumsy. Or maybe, he was really just cheating on him. 

Bucky preferred the blackmail theory. 

He’d decided not to tell Steve yet, and to just wait and see for the next time Steve comes home with suspicious marks. And then, one day, Steve didn’t come home at all. 

Bucky got to the house at 5:30. The front door was unlocked. Steve was nowhere to be found. And, no matter how many times Bucky called and texted, Steve did not answer. 

_ “Hi, this is Steve Rogers, sorry to have missed your call. If it’s something urgent feel free to text me, otherwise you can leave a voicemail after the—” _

It felt like the sign above all signs. Even when Steve came home that night and claimed he had just gotten caught up in work, Bucky had known he was lying. Things just weren’t right. 

That night, he dreamed of finding Steve in a basement, gagged and bleeding out. His eyes were blown huge with fear, and over him looked that scary man from the porn, a wicked sneer on his face. He said something to Steve about gangs and money and retribution, and then beat him until he screamed. 

Bucky woke up, nearly screaming himself. Steve did not wake up, because whatever the hell had happened earlier had left him dead tired. Bucky cuddled up behind him, holding him as close as possible, and swearing one more time that if anyone ever,  _ ever  _ tried to hurt Steve, Bucky would fuck them up so bad they wouldn’t even be able to  _ walk  _ after. Bucky was ex-military; he knew that sometimes violence was necessary to protect what really mattered.

  
  


———————————

  
  


After that incident, Bucky was done taking chances and making guesses. Something had happened with Steve, and Bucky needed to find out the truth. 

The next night, they stayed in, piling the couch high with blankets, pillows, and even the odd stuffed animal that Steve still owned, for some reason. It didn’t matter; what mattered was how Steve cute looked cuddled up to a stuffed seal, his glasses on and his eyes trained on the screen. 

“Give me your phone,” Bucky said decidedly, holding his hand out. “I want to post on your Snapchat.”

Steve gave him a vaguely intrigued look, the same look he always gave when Bucky phrased something like a command. He passed the phone over. 

Bucky backed up a few feet, taking the candid and posting it to Steve’s story like he’d said. Then, he swiped down on the screen, showing the map. Apparently, Steve didn’t share his location with anyone. Bucky quickly edited it so Steve was sharing his location with  _ Bucky,  _ and then went back to the home page and returned Steve’s phone. “You look cute,” he defended when Steve gave him a weird look. 

“You’re weird,” Steve decided, looking back to the tv. A small smile spread across his face. “But I won’t argue.”

Bucky huffed, sitting back down next to Steve. “Punk.”

“ _ Jerk. _ ”

  
  


———————————

  
  


His plan worked like this: he would ask Steve when he was going to be meeting with his editor the next few days. On one of the days (one of those days when Bucky  _ wasn’t  _ in a meeting), Bucky would open Snapchat, go to where it said Steve was on the map, and come in to say hi. If it was at a coffee shop or a publishing house, then all the better; Bucky would stop in, make up an excuse about missing Steve, introduce himself to Steve’s editor, and then make his departure. If it was something else… something more ominous… then, well. Bucky would just have to improvise. 

It ended up taking a week until their schedules lined up enough for Bucky to ditch work to check up on Steve. His location was a little ways out of town, not in the middle of nowhere, but not a great location for a coffeehouse. Bucky was optimistic. 

He got to the location, and whatever optimism he’d had fell. Steve was at someone’s house. Maybe his editor preferred hosting Steve at her place? That made sense. Plenty of editors had kids, right? So working from home was extra practical, right?

(Right?)

Bucky parked a little ways away and walked up. Parked around the house were no less than eight cars. Maybe it was an editing… convention? Taking place at two in the afternoon. In someone’s house. 

(Okay. Sure.)

Bucky walked around the house, peeking in through windows. In one room, he saw a couple of men hanging out, just eating and talking. They were all around Bucky’s age, but Steve wasn’t there, so Bucky continued. 

Almost all of the rest of the windows around the house showed empty rooms, and Bucky was about to give up and knock on the door when he got to the last set of windows. He peeked in, took a few moments to process the scene in front of him, then pushed himself back hard against the wall of the house, his hands over his mouth. He hadn’t just seen that. He’d seen something that  _ looked  _ like that, but it wasn’t actually. He misunderstood. He misunderstood. 

He peeked in again, and his heart crashed through his chest, ribs shattering and pulse jumping. 

Inside appeared to be an average living room. There were a few people in the living room; one of them the cruel man from the porno Steve hated so much. The other one, was, well, Steve. 

Bucky pushed himself back against the wall again, breathing hard. He pinched himself, knowing this had to be a dream, this could  _ only  _ be a dream, because he’d  _ had this dream before.  _

_ _ But when he pinched himself, he felt it. It wasn’t a dream. 

He peeked through the window one last time, trying to take it all in. Steve was kneeling on the floor, facing away from Bucky, but Bucky could still see enough of his face to know that he was miserable. His arms were crudely bound behind him with a belt, his hair disheveled from being yanking on. He writhed against his bonds, begging and crying out, saying something like “Please sir, please, I’ll be good—!” only to be cut off but a slap to the face. He gasped, eyes huge and pained. The man looked over him, grabbing his chin with his hand and reaching into his pants to take out his cock—

Bucky couldn’t watch another second. He grabbed the nearby door handle and slammed it open, bolting inside and  _ throwing  _ himself at the man. “Get away from him!” He screamed as they tumbled onto the floor. The man was huge, even to Bucky, and the idea that he was using that size to control Steve made Bucky see red. He punched the man in the face, causing hot thick blood to ooze from his nose, but the man wasn’t down yet. He let out a roar of fury and shoved them onto their sides, kicking Bucky hard in the leg and jumping to his feet. Bucky rolled backwards into a crouch and grabbed the man’s leg as he ran at him, flipping him over his shoulder. The man fell easily and responded with a punch the the back of the skull, nearly naking Bucky out. Bucky pivoted hard on the floor, throwing a few punches that were blocked before kicked the man in the chest and jumping on top of him, punching him in the face. 

In the background, there was yelling, coming both from Steve and from the men around them. Steve sounded the most concerned, shrieking for them to stop, but Bucky wasn’t done yet. Hands reached around him, yanking him backwards, and he got one last good kick in before he was pulled completely off the man. The man glared and spat, his face bloody, and lunged up enough to punch  _ him  _ before getting pulled back by more of the men. 

Behind him, Steve screamed “Bucky,  _ stop!” _

_ _ Bucky twisted out of his captors grips, ducking under one of their arms and grabbing onto Steve, who had lost the belt restraining his arms. The door was blocked, and they wouldn’t be able to get through the window, so Bucky shoved Steve back into a corner and bared his teeth. “Get back! Don’t touch him!”

Everyone took a step back, a few of them holding their hands up in surrender. 

“Bucky,” Steve choked out behind him, and Bucky turned. Steve was breathing hard, chest rising and falling visibly. He blinked back tears, bringing his hand up to press against the point in his temple that was bleeding, a fine line of blood dripping down his face. 

“You’ll be okay,” Bucky promised, voice getting choked up. “You’ll be okay. I promise. I  _ promise.” _

_ _ On the other side of the room, the other man pushed the people off of him, teeth bared. Bucky got in a more defensible stance, but he didn’t come after him, just regarded him viciously.

Then a new man came in the room, and  _ everyone  _ made room for him. He was black, in decent shape, and a little shorter than Bucky, but something about his stance made it very clear he was in charge. With his hands by his sides, his steps slow and his gaze drifting from person to person, he managed to be both tense enough to be ready to fight, and relaxed enough to actually win. His gaze found the other man, and he made a displeased noise at the back of his throat. Then his gaze found Bucky and Steve, and his frown deepened. 

“Quill,” he ordered, his voice that of a drill sergeant in the mess hall, “Get Brock out of here and clean him up.”

“Yes sir,” Quill said, then seemed to make a face at himself for the honorific. He and the man— Brock— left. 

Sam turned his full attention towards Steve and Bucky, coming to the middle of the room to talk to them, but not coming any closer. He picked up a discarded shirt from the floor with two fingers and tossed it carefully to Steve, who caught it and held it up to his forehead. 

“Bucky?” Sam asked cautiously. Bucky narrowed his eyes. “My name is Sam Wilson, I’m in charge of this branch. I was wondering if you could tell me what you think just happened.”

Bucky swallowed. The door was still blocked, and he didn’t see another way out, especially with Steve in this state of mind. He wasn’t sure what to say, so he said the only thing he could think of. “Don’t touch him. Don’t you dare— if you ever—” 

“Calm. Down,” Sam said, gesturing with his hands. “Look at these cameras. What do you think we were using them for?”

Bucky looked at the cameras. He hadn’t really processed them earlier, but they were big cameras, professional grade. He didn’t want to think about why they were filming what they were just doing to Steve. 

“This is a porn agency,” Sam said, just as calmly. “And Steve is—”

“Sam!” Steve protested, his voice squeaking.

Sam leveled Steve with such an intense look Bucky almost took another step back. “Steven Grant Rogers, don’t test me. Your boy just walked in on a scene with no context; you don’t  _ get  _ to keep those secrets anymore.” He returned his gaze to Bucky, still not friendly, but less controlling that the look he’d given Steve. “Steve is one of our actors. Our ‘stars’, if you will. He has given his consent for this, and we have the paperwork to prove it.”

Bucky’s mind was reeling. Steve was involved in… Steve was  _ acting for… _ this whole thing was about… 

Porn?

He turned to look at Steve, who wrapped his arms around himself, and nodded. “I’m sorry, Buck.”

But Bucky wasn’t going to let it go that easily. “You’re telling me… you’re telling me that today you drove here out of your  _ own free will _ , and  _ let _ …” he couldn’t finish his sentence, too consumed with thoughts of what he’d walked in on. “Steve! He was hurting you, he was  _ marking _ you…”

Steve ducked his head, face bright red with shame. 

Sam snapped his fingers, bringing everyone’s attention firmly back to him. “Steve, Bucky, it looked like you have some stuff to talk about, so you can take the couch. I’ll get you guys some water. Everyone else, you’re dismissed.”

The rest of the people turned and left, quickly following the order. Upon closer inspection, they were all men, and two of them were the cameramen, while a few of the others were some of the men Bucky’s seen hanging out in a different part of the house. 

Once they were gone, Steve pushed past Bucky and sat on the couch, his head in his hands. Bucky sat beside him and reached out to put a hand on his shoulder, but Steve slapped it away. “Don’t touch me.”

Bucky’s heart actually hurt. “Stevie—”

“ _ Don’t.  _ Just…” he went quiet as Sam came over holding out water bottles for both of them. The water bottles were disponible ones, which almost irritated Bucky, until he realized they were properly sealed, and that’s probably why Sam gave them to them. 

“Steve,” Sam checked in, crouching in front of him, “How’re you feeling?”

Steve shook his head, still covered by his hands. “I don’t wanna be here,” he murmured, voice smaller than Bucky had ever heard it. 

Sam nodded slowly. “Alright. I want you to go and get cleaned up. Take a shower in the second bathroom, then take care of your forehead, and then get dressed in clean clothes. If you need help with your forehead, I want you to ask someone. You have twenty minutes, do you understand?”

While he was talking, Steve removed his hands from his face, still bright red but no longer crying. He kept his eyes on the floor until Sam finished, then he nodded jerkily and got up. “Yes sir.”

Bucky reached out, but either Steve didn’t see or he was purposefully ignoring him. Steve left. 

Sam sat on the couch, regarding Bucky like a wild animal he didn’t want to set off. He stayed quiet, letting Bucky make the first move. 

Bucky exhaled, deflating a bit against the couch. “I can’t believe he lets you speak to him like that.”

Sam smiled, taking his cues from Bucky and leaning back as well. “Do you like that? Steve calls it my Dom voice. I usually only use it in scenes, but I make exceptions.”

“‘Dom Voice’,” Bucky repeated. “Jesus.”

After that, Sam went to get his laptop, and came back not only with that, but also with a bag half full of dark chocolate. “Help yourself,” he said, opening up his laptop. Bucky did, and then stashed a few to give to Steve later; dark chocolate was his favorite. 

Sam pulled up a few pages of documents to show to Bucky, which included Steve’s contract to the company, a page of terms and conditions, and Steve’s emergency contact form. The old one had had someone named ‘Peggy’ as his emergency contact, but there was an updated form with Bucky’s name and information. 

**Name: Bucky Barnes**

**Relationship: Partner**

  
  


Lastly, Sam showed Bucky a video of Steve smiling to the camera. He looked a little younger than he was when Bucky met him, a little more innocent. “Hi, my name is Steve Rogers, and this is my video of consent proving that I am enthusiastic about starting my job at Red Star films, and fully understand the risks and requirements of a job in porn.” 

“Anything else I could show or tell you to make you feel better about all this?” Sam asked. 

Bucky leaned back, not sure where to start. He was still reading from this whole experience in general. Seriously, porn?  _ Porn? _

_ _ That thought lead him to think about the porno they’d watched with that guy Brock in it. “Who was the guy I beat up?” 

“Brock Rumlow. And I didn’t see what you walked in on, but I will personally vouch for Brock’s character. Trust me, he would never want to hurt Steve.”

“You sound pretty confident,” Bucky observed.

Sam laughed. "God, I hope so. He's my boyfriend."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter:  
\- Bucky's first pov!  
\- what Bucky thought of Steve's suspicious activity  
\- Bucky hacking Steve's phone  
\- Bucky's misconception/ attacking Rumlow  
\- Sam saving the day and being a mf boss  
\- Steve following Sam's orders in subspace
> 
> Please let me know what you thought of this chapter! Is there anyone in specific your sympathizing with most? Anyone you're not sympathizing with? Let me know in the comments down below :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Steve**

Steve followed Sam's instructions, thankful to have them. They'd been pretty deep in the scene when it had been interrupted, and then the following events had been so dramatic Steve thought he might get sick. So, Steve followed instructions. 

He drank some water. He took a shower. He put on clothes. He cleaned the blood off his forehead from where Bucky's elbowed him. He didn't think about anything more than he had to. 

When he was done (in less than the allotted 30 minutes) he reported back to Sam, kneeling on the floor in front of him. Bucky was still on the couch, and Steve heard him go "Oh, sweetheart," before Sam could tell him not to. 

"Steve, do you want more aftercare?" Sam asked. Steve paused to think about it, then nodded. He did not look at Bucky. "Alright. I want you to go and find Rumlow and stay with him, alright? If you can't do that for whatever reason, come back here." 

Steve nodded, considering agreeing out loud, but also acknowledging that the scene had ended and now they were in aftercare; it was an appropriate time to go non-verbal.

He went off to find Brock, who was still in the kitchen being patched up by Quill. He already had a bandage on his cheek, and was holding a tissue under his nose. The tissue was almost soaked through with red. 

"I'm sorry," Steve whispered, but Rumlow just looped an arm around him, pulling him close. Steve almost purred. 

"You're good, baby boy. You wanna kneel while I finish up?" 

Steve nodded, so Rumlow helped him get into position, kneeling between his legs. He rested his head against the inside of one of Rumlow's well-muscled thighs, and grinned when he noticed Rumlow was still excruciatingly hard. "Does getting in fights turn you on?" He giggled, voice still soft. 

Rumlow chuckled, and Steve could feel the vibrations through his thigh. "Mm, they do. Sam thinks it's leftover from the Army, but I think he's just a jealous flier. Fucking Air Force, am I right?" 

Steve giggled, nuzzling against his crotch. "Fucking Air Force," he agreed. He opened his mouth, sucking on Rumlow's bulge through his pants. 

Rumlow let out a sharp exhale. "Alright. Okay pal, if you're not planning on following through, I'm gonna need you to stop right about now."

Steve hummed, not stopping. "Do you want me to suck you off?" 

"Stupid question," Rumlow panted, "But seriously, stop. If we're gonna do this, imma need you to come out of space enough to consent, alright? Steve, do you actually want this?" 

Steve sighed and propped his chin up, close enough to Brock's stomach that he could look up and make eye contact. "I want to blow you because today is fucked to hell, and I don't know what to do. I know how to do this. Also, we didn't get to finish the scene." 

Rumlow pet his hair, and then agreed, telling Steve he could suck him. Steve immediately went down to business, unzipping his fly and licking a stripe up his cock. He nuzzled underneath it, licking and sucking at his balls, but not taking his cock in mouth yet.

"Is he actually sucking you off?" Quill asked from above the table, where he was still patching Rumlow up. 

Rumlow dug a hand into Steve's hair, pulling his head back forcefully. "He's trying to. C'mon, baby boy, take it." 

Steve took Rumlow in his mouth, sucking him down. Since they weren't filming, he didn't try anything fancy. Deepthroating was the visually pleasing, but sucking on the tip and giving it attention with his tongue oftentimes was  _ more  _ stimulating. 

He fell back into subspace, closing his eyes and drifting off as he gave Rumlow's cock the attention it deserved. The whole time, Rumlow kept his hand in Steve's hair, petting him and going between praising him and talking to Quill. With other people, it might have been an issue, but Quill had been in the business for even longer than Steve, and had plenty of scenes with both Steve and Rumlow. 

He was vaguely aware when Sam came in, his footsteps light but still present. He stopped by Rumlow’s side, asking quietly “Is he sucking your dick?”

Rumlow grunted happily. “Don’t hate the player, hate the game.”

“I’m not a big fan of the player either,” Sam grumbled. “Do you realize how bad this is? Bucky could have walked in here with me, what if he saw this? Don’t you think their relationship has been fucked with enough today?”

“Hey, my job is to take care of any sub I’m in a scene with. Today, that was Steve, and our scene was interrupted. I didn’t want him to drop, sue me. Besides, he offered, and I made him talk about it first to make sure it was right.” He sighed. “Babe, I’ve got it under control, alright? Trust me.”

“I trust you,” Sam admitted sadly. There was the sound of a brief kiss, and Steve reached under, fondling Rumlow’s balls. Rumlow tightened his grip on his hair, but didn’t pull away. “Quill, can you give us a minute? You’ve been great by the way, thanks for helping out.”

"No problem. I gotta head out, but let me know if anything changes, or if you need to recast some scenes or anything."

"Yeah, sounds good. Have a good one."

"Have a  _ great  _ one," Rumlow added, all smirk. 

"Yeah, yeah, suck a dick." 

Steve made a noise in protest and Rumlow laughed. 

After Rumlow came, he pulled Steve up onto his lap, letting him cuddle up against his chest. Steve tried to remain in his headspace for as long as possible, but his worries were already creeping up on him, and he knew he couldn’t stay there for long. “Bucky’s still here?” He asked Sam sullenly. 

“Yep. I’d recommend you both go home now, and we can talk about rescheduling today’s scene.”

Steve groaned. “Fine. Lemme go brush my teeth first.”

After taking care of that, Steve went back into the living room, giving Bucky an awkward look. Bucky immediately pulled him into a hug, holding him tightly before leaning back just enough to kiss him. “Let’s go home?” He practically pleaded, and Steve nodded. Home was starting to sound really good right now, even if Steve dreaded the conversation that they were sure to have.

  
  


————————-

  
  


They drove home in their separate cars, and Steve was late because he picked up some fried chicken on the way. The day had been so much, and all he wanted was some greasy junk food and sleep. It would likely be a while until he got that second thing, so at least he could get himself the first. 

When Steve walked inside, he realized maybe that wasn’t the best decision, as Bucky looked a little less than panicked. Steve sighed. “I brought chicken. Also, stop looking so freaked out, I know you’re tracking my phone.”

Bucky didn’t argue. They dished up their food in silence, sitting down on opposite sides of the couch. 

“Are you going to say anything?” Steve asked finally, just a corner of edge to his voice. Bucky couldn’t just go and reveal Steve’s secrets, get in a fight, act on edge around him, and then just be  _ quiet.  _

Bucky sighed, picking up a new piece of chicken. “I guess I’m just trying to figure out why you kept this a secret. How long have you been involved with…”

“With porn?” Steve finished. Bucky flinched. “You can call it what it is. And I’ve been involved with some kind of porn for three years, and with Sam’s studio for about a year.”

Bucky nodded. “We’ve been dating for seven months.”

“Yep.” Steve watched Bucky’s face carefully, trying to figure out what he was thinking. “Bucky, I like my job. I’m not trapped or anything like that. I just didn’t want you to get freaked out or mad about it, or… or misunderstand it.”

Bucky snorted. “Well I guess that didn’t work out.” 

They fell back into silence. Both of them finished their food, and Steve brought their plates and napkins to the kitchen, loading the dishwasher. He came back to the couch, sat back down on his end, and fell back into the quiet. “So, to clarify, you are upset?”

Bucky looked up. “What, you think I’d be upset about you sleeping with other people when you said we were monogamous? That earlier today, you called a man who’s a stranger to me  _ ‘sir’?  _ That you’ve been lying to me this entire relationship?”

“Bucky—”

“Can I talk?”

Steve bit his lip, but nodded. 

“For months, I’ve known something was up,” Bucky continued, his words toeing the line between cautious and severe. “I thought maybe you were in danger, like you were trapped in a gang situation that you couldn’t get out of. I was  _ pretty sure  _ you weren’t cheating on me— I just thought you wouldn’t do that. I thought the only reason you’d keep something from me is if it was hurting you, but…” 

“I didn’t cheat on you,” Steve interrupted, frowning. “I didn’t.”

Bucky shrugged. “I don’t know what else to call your job. How many people have you slept with since we got together?” 

Steve blinked. “I…”

“Come on, how many pornos have you made since we started dating? Come on, give me the number.”

Steve crossed his arms, sitting back. In truth, he didn’t keep track. “In the time we’ve been dating, I’ve probably shot about… 70 to 90 scenes, with maybe 30 people. But Bucky, they were just scenes. It’s a job, it’s not real. I would never cheat on you.”

Bucky shook his head. “You promised me monogamy, and you cheated me out of that.”

Steve felt his heart drop. That sounded like a breakup line. Was Bucky breaking up with him? Over  _ this?  _ After everything, after both dropping  _ I love yous  _ and moving in and talking about the future…

He swallowed. Whatever. The ball was in Bucky’s court now. “Maybe I should leave.”

Bucky stayed quiet. Steve nodded and stood, fully intended to go pack his stuff and get the hell out, when Bucky said “Steve,  _ stop.  _ Come here.”

Steve turned, and saw that Bucky was dead-serious. He followed the command, cautiously coming closer to Bucky, only for Bucky to grab him by his hips and pull him down, sitting so close their thighs touched. “I’m upset,” Bucky said, “But we can work this out.”

Steve sighed, leaning against Bucky’s side and nuzzling his neck. “Please. I don’t wanna leave you.”

Bucky held him tightly, shushing him softly. “It’s alright, it’s okay baby. We’ll figure this out.”

  
  


————————————

  
  


Steve woke up feeling sleepy, but refreshed. Whatever impending sub drop had been looming over his shoulders had lightened up, and Steve had faith for the coming days. He  _ was  _ a little cold though, so he scooted back, trying to spoon up against Bucky. Eventually, he hit Bucky’s side, and rolled over. 

“Hey sweetheart,” Bucky said with no intonation. He was sitting propped up against the headboard, his hair pushed to one side of his neck, and his eyes focused on the laptop in front of him. “Sleep well?”

“Yeah,” Steve mumbled, scooting closer to see the screen. “What’re you doing?”

“Watching porn,” Bucky answered, like it was the easiest thing ever. Steve frowned and scooted even closer, until his head was on Bucky’s thigh and he could see the screen. The laptop was muted, but sure enough, two men were fucking on-screen, one thin and the other rippling with muscles. “I was trying to find your videos, but I’m not having much luck.”

“Most of my videos aren’t on PornHub,” Steve admitted. “Here.” Steve took the computer, going to the site Sam posts through, and signing in. That site required a monthly subscription fee, which Sam explained was good because it discouraged minors from accessing it. Once Steve was signed in, he searched his porn name, and clicked enter. 

“‘Grant Tanner’,” Bucky read, still in that expressionless voice. “I should’ve guessed you’d go by Grant.”

“It was either that or Joey, but it seemed sort of morbid naming my porn persona after my dad,” Steve admitted. 

Bucky scrolled through some of the videos. The ones at the top weren’t the worst ones, thankfully, and the piss one hadn’t been posted yet, but they were all still explicit. Steve mostly did videos with size kink or Dom/sub, if not other, more specific kinks. He’d done bondage. He’d done impact play. He’d been fucked in every position under the sun, had his hole stretched out and beaten closed, been put in chastity, been made to beg, made to cry. Some porn out there was sweet, soft stuff, with a supposed-couple making sweet, tender love without any harshness whatsoever. That was not the type of porn Steve tended to make. 

Bucky clicked on one video Steve did with Quill, and Steve made himself get up, sliding out of bed. “Have fun, I’m gonna take a shower.”

Bucky hummed something in acknowledgment, and Steve left. He’d never watched porn with someone else before, unless the person was someone else in the business, of course. He didn’t really know how to react— especially since Bucky wouldn’t be focused on the production, but on the fact that Steve was fucking someone who wasn’t him. Ergo: shower. 

Steve took a long, hot shower, trying to make himself relax as much as possible. He changed into the clothes he’d brought into the bathroom with him, then went back in the bedroom, grabbing his phone from the charger and pecking a kiss on Bucky’s lips. Bucky was still watching the videos. Steve went into the living room, and with nothing better to do, checked his phone. 

**From: Sam**

**Hey, call me when you wake up**

**If I don’t get a call by noon I’m sending a search party**

  
  


Steve wrinkled his nose. 

  
  


**From: Steve**

**I hope by ‘search party’ you don’t mean Rumlow **

**Because I have a feeling that would not go over well**

  
  


After sending the messages, Steve clicked the call button and waited. It only took two rings for Sam to pick up. “Steve?”

“I’m good,” Steve promised, because that was Sam’s concerned Dom voice if he’d ever heard it. “Last night, Bucky and I talked and then went to bed together. I didn’t drop, and I’m not dropping now. It’s all good.”

In the background, Steve could hear someone yelling, and Sam saying “fine, fine, I’ll tell him.” He huffed. “Steve, Brock says that the reason you didn’t drop is because he let you suck him off. Which is ridiculous,  _ by the way _ , and I refuse to commend such actions.”

“It worked!” Rumlow yelled in the background. “I’m telling you, it worked!”

Sam sighed, but this time it seemed more fond. “Anyway, you’re sure you’re okay? Do you feel any sense of fatigue, sadness, or loss?”

“I promise, I really do feel fine,” Steve said. “I’m just a little weary because I don’t know what’ll happen next. I just… I have no idea what to expect.”

“That’s understandable. But Steve, you gotta remember to be honest with him. More lying isn’t going to fix anything.”

Just then, Bucky came in from the bedroom, sauntering lazily in the direction of the coffee pot. He caught a glimpse of the phone pressed to Steve’s ear and made a face. 

“You’re right,” Steve said to Sam, following Bucky with his eyes. “Thanks for the advice, and for checking in. I’ll let you know if anything changes.”

Sam said his affirmative, then Steve hung up, turning all the way around on the couch to watch Bucky. Bucky had gotten the coffee maker started, and was now messing with a box of cereal. 

“So,” Steve started, hesitant. “What’d you think?”

Bucky shrugged one shoulder, inconclusive. “I don’t really know what to think. But, I do think I came to a conclusion.”

Steve raised his eyebrows, his heart raising in turn, bumping against his collarbone. “Yeah?”

Bucky nodded, brow furrowed and expression serious. “Yeah. I think I want you to quit.”

  
  


—————————————

  
  


Steve did not want to quit porn, but he also didn’t want to quit Bucky, so they came to a compromise. Steve would take a one-week vacation from porn, in which they could both soul search and see what made the most sense. Bucky had argued that Steve was too close to the problem to see the truth, while Steve had argued that Bucky was acting on instinct without actually thinking anything through, so the week-long compromise made sense. At the end of the seven days, they would meet on the topic again, each with their own list of thoughts to address, and they would make a compromise. A compromise that, hopefully, would not include Steve getting a part time job in fast food.

The seven days were hell. First of all, Steve had shoots scheduled for that week that all had to be scrapped, with no one knowing if they would ever be rescheduled. Steve felt guilty, because Sam had a quota to reach and Steve wasn’t doing his part, and then Steve felt angry because things wouldn’t be like this if his secret had stayed that way. And then he’d get sad, because he loved Bucky, and he’d scared him and made him feel like shit. 

Overall, it was a mess. 

His relationship with Bucky was on edge the entire week, too. They still cuddled, but whenever they did it had a slightly off feeling, like two people who’d never met before trying to cuddle on a first date. Sometimes, Bucky would ask a question out of the blue, like “How much do you get paid per video?” and “What do you do to stay safe?” Other times, however, Bucky would just be quiet, so deep in thought Steve could hardly have a conversation with him. 

By Day 3, Steve was getting restless. He hadn’t gotten off since the day before the incident (since on that fateful shoot, only Rumlow ended up getting off), and after such frequency his body was just used to it. It wasn’t sure what to do with all the energy he’d accumulated, but Steve didn’t want to jerk off, and he wasn’t sure it was a good time to suggest something with Bucky.

On Day 4, some of that nervous energy was released when Bucky fucked him. He’d been extra quiet that day, only showing interest when they were watching tv together. He put his hand on Steve’s thigh, waited a few moments, then slid it up, dipping his fingers against Steve’s soft inner flesh, then moving on all the way to rest over Steve’s crotch. They ended up kissing, and then moving to the bedroom for Bucky to fuck him, but even though the expirience was genuine, it felt sterile. Their relationship, one way or the other, was in purgatory, with neither of them knowing how things were going to play out once their week was up. 

By Day 6, Steve was pretty sure he wasn’t going to like Bucky’s requests, when a silver Subaru Outback pulled up outside. Sam peeled out, walking with a certain casual confidence that he probably wore to meetings with producers, and rang the doorbell. 

“You get it,” Steve grumbled from the couch. He knew who it was, but at this point, he didn’t care. They’d both made their decisions; now they were just waiting to tell each other. 

Bucky answered the door and had a tense conversation that involved Sam asking Bucky to go on a drive with him, and Bucky making a thinly veiled Mafia joke. It wasn’t very funny, but Sam laughed out of politeness anyway. Before the could leave, Sam slipped around Bucky, and went over to the couch where Steve was. “Hey, man. I’m stealing your guy for a while, alright?”

“Fine with me,” Steve said, trying to sound agreeable. Sam ruffled his hair, and handed him a smoothie in a styrofoam cup. “I got you this. Do you like smoothies?”

“He likes them,” Bucky answered for Steve, opening the door. “Let’s go.”

Steve made grabby hands over the couch, and with a sigh, Bucky let the front door swing closed so he could kiss Steve goodbye. “Have fun,” Steve said genuinely. “And use lots of lube.”

Bucky got a vague panicked look in his eyes, before looking at Sam and Steve’s pathetic excuses for poker faces, and huffing. He tapped Steve’s check with the back of his hand, miming a backhand slap, then pressed one last kiss to his hair. “Ass.”

“Love you too,” Steve teased. 

———————————

  
  


The next day, they sat down together on the couch, Bucky with a list on paper, and Steve with a list on his phone. Steve shifted, not quite sure how to start. “Do you wanna go first?”

On the bright side, Bucky didn’t look particularly comfortable either, so at least they were on the same page with that. “I think you should.”

Steve nodded, looking down at his list. He’d written it out when he was in a more agitated mood, angry at Bucky for finding out his secret and putting him in this situation, but all of the things on the list were still true. He inhaled, then began. “I want to keep doing porn. I do it with a studio that takes care of me, with people I trust, and with plenty of measures in place to keep me safe. Right now, my books aren’t making enough to pay rent, and it's important to me to be financially independent, which means I have to have a job. This is the job I want.” He wished he could have written his notes down on paper, so he could smooth out the wrinkles when he was done, give the whole situation a sense of finality. 

Bucky nodded. He looked a bit like some of the hope had drained out of him, but he didn’t look especially angry or upset, so Steve took it as a good sign. “Okay, thanks for telling me. I still want you to quit.” Steve’s chest twisted up uncomfortably, but Bucky held up his hand, showing he wasn’t done yet. “I  _ want _ you to quit, but… I also see why you wouldn’t want to. And I think we can work something out.”

Instantly, it felt like a weight had been lifted. Steve had been so scared that they wouldn’t find a middle ground, that they’d both end up standing too firmly on one side or the other than no real conclusion would be reached. But that didn’t happen. Bucky wanted to work something out;  _ Bucky wanted to work something out. _

_ _ “What were you thinking?” Steve asked, voice gentle. Bucky must have seen the affect his voice had on Steve, because his expression softened. He fluffed his paper out a little, checking over his list. 

“I want to be a part of it,” he started. “I want to know what’s going on. No more secrets.”

“No more secrets,” Steve agreed. “I can do that.”

“I want an accurate schedule for when you’re supposed to go in. Maybe you could put it on a calendar app and share it with me, or something. And… I want veto power.”

“Veto power,” Steve repeated, testing out the words. Based on the way Bucky was biting his lip, this was one of his greatest demands. “Why?”

Bucky shrugged one shoulder, a lot less confident than he’d been before. “There are some scenes I’m uncomfortable with you making. I want to be able to put my foot down.”

“It’s my body,” Steve objected, trying to avoid sounding too defensive. “I know my own limits.”

Maybe that wasn’t the best thing to say, because Bucky looked like he was actually in  _ pain.  _ “I don’t know my limits though,” he said, voice broken. “I don’t know how many more times I can watch you getting hurt.”

Steve was reminded, once again, that Bucky really didn’t know much about kink. He probably thought that impact play was just for sadistic purposes; probably couldn’t even  _ imagine  _ Steve getting something out of pain. “Okay. I can give you veto privileges, but they aren’t absolute, alright? You gotta tell me what you don’t like about a scene, and there  _ are _ some scenes that I can’t get out of last minute.”

“Understood.”

Steve glanced at Bucky’s list. “Do you have anything else?”

It seemed like he did, but Bucky shook his head, crumbling the list. “No.”

Steve nodded. “By the way, what’s with the change in heart? Yesterday I really thought you’d want me to quit for good.”

Bucky shifted in his seat. “Sam. He talked me through it, answered some more of my questions. He seems like a good person— even if he has a horrible taste in boyfriends.”

Steve snorted. He stood, coming over to Bucky and pushing his paper aside to sit on his lap. One of Bucky’s arms came around his waist, helping him stay balanced, and the other rested on Steve’s knee. Steve leaned down, pushing Bucky’s head to one side to kiss at his jawline. “Thank you. That means a lot.”

Bucky pulled back enough to look Steve in the eye, seeming more relaxed now that he had Steve in his lap. “Yeah, well, what can I say? I’m a man in love.”

  
  


————————————

  
  


**Bucky **

  
  


Bucky was not happy that Steve would be continuing porn. If it was his choice, Steve would quit that very day. He could go and find a nice, normal job at a bookstore or something. Or, he could just let Bucky support him— which Bucky could do, theoretically. He didn’t make a ton of money at his job, but they wouldn’t have to move to a different house or anything. They could make it work. 

But then, when he saw the look on Steve’s face when he said he would be okay with Steve continuing porn… it almost made it worth it.  _ Almost.  _ Maybe Bucky should have been more upset by how excited Steve was to get to fuck people other than Bucky, but Steve was happy, so even if Bucky didn’t understand it, he could be happy too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter...  
\- Steve and Rumlow evaded subdrop the best they could (aka under the table blowjobs)  
\- Steve and Bucky went home and talked about porn  
\- Steve took a week off  
\- Sam took Bucky out to answer his questions  
\- Steve and Bucky made a deal
> 
> As usual, please let me know your thoughts! And, just as a little life notice, writing and posting is probably going to be a little weird for a while, because I've joined my school's wrestling team! For context, hi, my name is Kate and I'm a 5'9 relatively-lightweight girl. The wrestling team consists of about 10 boys and 1 other girl, and I have 0 experience. It's really fun though, even if they kicked my ass the first few days! If anyone out there is considered trying it out, I'd highly recommend it. Anyways, that's probably going to impact my schedule a bit, but we'll see! 
> 
> Have a nice day!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thanksgiving 😊 In case you're American and you hate this holiday, heres some stucky! Enjoy!

**Bucky **

  
  


Bucky was not happy that Steve would be continuing porn. If it was his choice, Steve would quit that very day. He could go and find a nice, normal job at a bookstore or something. Or, he could just let Bucky support him— which Bucky could do, theoretically. He didn’t make a ton of money at his job, but they wouldn’t have to move to a different house or anything. They could make it work. 

But then, when he saw the look on Steve’s face when he said he would be okay with Steve continuing porn… it almost made it worth it.  _ Almost.  _ Maybe Bucky should have been more upset by how excited Steve was to get to fuck people other than Bucky, but Steve was happy, so even if Bucky didn’t understand it, he could be happy too.

Immediately after their conversation, Steve went to call Sam. Later that day he had a calendar set up on his phone that was shared with Bucky, containing all of his scheduled ‘shoots’. There were three set up for the next week, and even then Bucky could tell Steve was holding himself back. 

But surprisingly enough, their system actually seemed to  _ work.  _ Steve’s first day back to the job, Bucky took off, knowing he wouldn’t be able to focus at work. Steve stuck to his schedule, leaving at 1, and coming back at 5. Even with travel time, that was nearly 3 hours spent shooting. “That’s a long video,” Bucky commented, trying not to let it sound judgy. 

Steve stretched out like a cat, cracking his back audibly before plopping on the couch with Bucky, his head in Bucky’s lap. “There’s a lot of editing that goes into it. That video could be anywhere from 20-50 minutes when it’s trimmed down.”

Bucky made a sound of displeasure. “Why are you cutting out 2 hours of footage?”

Steve smiled up at him, like  _ you silly man.  _ Bucky rolled his eyes, flicking some hair out of Steve’s face. “Well, it was a bondage video. We did about four different poses, and each one took between 5 and 30 minutes to get into. Most people don’t get turned on by 30 minutes of knot-tying, so we’ll crop that out. And then, there’s always other parts that have to be shortened.”

Bucky raised his eyebrows. “Like?”

“Watch.” Steve raised his hands, closing one into a loose fist, and sticking his pointer finger out on the other. Then, he brought them together, simulating a penis and a hole. He thrust his imaginary finger-penis in and out aggressively for about twenty seconds before going “Are you bored yet? Because I am. No one wants to watch straight thrusting for ten minutes.”

Bucky huffed, shaking his head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You  _ looooveee  _ me.” 

“I will neither confirm nor deny,” Bucky teased. “But you said today was bondage?”

Steve grinned, holding up his wrists for Bucky’s inspection. There were still some light indents around them, a little bruising. “Yep! I’ve still got some of these marks on my legs and ass too— don’t ask. It was pretty fun. Bondage isn’t my favorite thing, but it can be nice. I can get into subspace really easily, because you know, you’re just held still. You can’t go anywhere and you can’t stop anything that’s happening, so you’re mind just drifts and you’re entire body relaxes into the motions and— sorry, I’m probably weirding you out.”

With the way Steve was looking at him, Bucky must have had a pretty weird expression on his face, which he quickly tried to remedy. “No! I mean, I don’t really get it, but… I like hearing you talk about it. You really had fun, huh?”

Steve nodded rapidly. “Yeah. Subspace is the absolute best. I would live in it if I could.” 

Bucky had started reading some of the websites Sam had recommended to him, so he was starting to understand what Steve meant by things like ‘subspace’. He didn’t get why Steve would want to  _ live  _ like that, submissive and unaware, but he wasn’t going to ruin Steve’s good mood. “That’s nice, snookums.” 

The next time Steve had a shoot, Bucky went to work as normal. When he got, Steve told him a little about the scene, and then they made dinner together. That night they bought tickets to a rock concert, and they went their separate ways to read and play around on their phones. It was surprisingly… normal. 

That whole first week, there weren’t really any hiccups. Then Steve added the schedule of his shoots for the next week, and Bucky went through, looking at the details. 

  
  


**Monday:**

**11am-1pm Scene With Peter **

**2 Subs **

**No penetration, suck-jobs and frotting only **

  
  


**Tuesday: **

**1pm-3pm Scene With Thor (blond guy, met at June conference)**

**Size kink**

  
  


**Thursday:**

**1pm-4pm Scene With Dr. Strange **

**Strict Dom/sub; bondage w/ collars; P.P.**

  
  


There was something else scheduled for Friday, but Bucky found himself stuck on the Thursday entry. Everything about it seemed off, from the name of the actor (Doctor Strange?), to the collar thing, to whatever “P.P.” was. Bucky wracked his, admittedly limited knowledge of kinks, but the best thing he could come up with was “penis play”. That didn’t seem quite right, though. 

“Stevie?” Bucky called. He was in their bedroom, and he heard some noises in the kitchen, Steve shuffling around. 

“Yeah?”

“What does ‘P.P.’ stand for? It’s on your schedule for Thursday.”

There was a long silence, and for a moment Bucky thought Steve hadn’t heard, when Steve called back “Oh. It’s Piss Play.”

Bucky’s brain shut off for a moment. When he could finally get it to work again, he said (in a slightly high-pitched voice), “Would you mind coming in here for a second?”

It took a minute, but then Steve was sticking his head in the room, cheeks just slightly flushed. “Uh huh? What’s up?”

Bucky was pretty sure Steve was just playing dumb. Surely,  _ surely,  _ Steve understood why Bucky might find issue with this. After all, Steve was the one who typed it in as ‘P.P.’ instead of writing it out full. “I was just wondering. Um. What exactly you mean by ‘ _ piss _ play’.”

Steve picked at his nails, pointedly not looking at Bucky. “Oh. Well. Really, it should really be called ‘fluid play’, because it’s not all about—”

“ _ Steve.” _

_ _ Steve shivered a little, as if something about Bucky’s voice affected him. “It’s basically what it sounds like. I’ll be on the ground, either kneeling or curled up or whatever, and the actor I’m working with will piss on me. Not in my mouth or anything, just… on my stomach. And ass.”

Okay. Okay. “Okay. You see why I might have a problem with that?”

Steve shrugged. “I didn’t think I’d like it, but I did it a couple of weeks ago for the first time and I actually got really into it. It’s a good type of humiliation, you know? And I get paid extra to do it.” 

“Why?” How had this become Bucky’s life? Two weeks ago he’d been concerned about whether or not his car  _ really  _ needed an oil change, and now he was trying to figure out why someone would get paid extra to be  _ pissed on.  _

Steve shrugged. “Most people won’t do it. It’s a supply versus demand thing.”

Bucky took a deep breath, trying to collect himself. “Okay. But I still want to veto it.”

  
  


————————————

  
  


**Steve **

  
  


Steve let Bucky veto the piss play scene, mostly because he couldn’t very well tell him  _ no  _ the first time he tried to put his foot down. He had to let Bucky feel like he had some control over the situation, otherwise Bucky would just get weirder and weirder about it. 

So Steve texted Sam, explaining the situation, and Sam said they could work with that. Strange was contacted, and the scene was changed to no longer have piss play. Bucky seemed surprised when they didn’t just cancel the scene altogether, but he didn’t protest. 

Things went back to normal, with Steve doing his best to diffuse any tension that remained between them. On Tuesday, he realized it had been a while since they’d had sex, so he swung by the sex store on his way home. He got back fifteen minutes before Bucky was expected, and got himself ready. 

When Bucky came in, Steve called out “In the bedroom!” Bucky started talking about his day, explaining something that happened at work, when he walked in and saw Steve. 

“Hey Buck,” Steve said, batting his lashes. He was naked, half hard, and wearing a black collar. He was kneeling on the bed, and at the sight of Bucky, he naturally spread his knees just a little wider. “Do you have a minute?”

Overall, it was a success, especially when Bucky pulled Steve’s legs up and saw that he was already stretched and plugged, just waiting for him. 

When they were done, and laying under the covers of the bed, Bucky asked "So, what's the deal with the collar?" 

Bucky seeming interested in the collar reaffirmed Steve's hunch about buying it. During the act, he'd touched it a few times, using it as a grip to make Steve roll over or look a certain direction. Now, he brushed his fingers over it lightly. 

Steve beamed. "You like it? I thought it might be a nice symbol, something to remind you that I'm yours." 

Bucky hummed, fingers brushing over the clasp. "Thats real sweet, doll. Does that mean I should also get one? Since I'm yours too." 

Steve was pretty sure he'd never loved anyone like this. 

  
  


\------------------------------

  
  


Steve was back at the House that following Thursday for his scene with Strange. The House was bustling with activity, everyone taking apart equipment and cameras to move them downstairs to the basement. There'd been a glitch with some of the tech down there, so they had to move some stuff around. 

Sam was right in the middle of it all, directing people with a large tripod under one arm, when he noticed him. "Steve! Hey man, are you coming tomorrow?"

Steve smiled shyly, stepping out of the way for Bruce with one of the cameras. "I'm still not sure. It's on my calendar, but I don't really want to leave Bucky at home on a Friday night." 

"Easy, bring him along," Sam suggested, then yelled at one of the other production guys to be more careful with one of the lights. "See? I'm fixing everyone's problems today."

Steve hesitated. The thought had crossed his mind, but… "You think he's ready for it?" 

"No one's ever ready for anything," Pietro said, sliding past Steve. "That's life. You have to throw him in the deep end if you ever want him to swim." 

"Words to live by," Sam said, even though Steve was pretty sure he didn't hear Pietro right. "I say you should go for it. It's not like there will be any sex at the party; what's the harm?"

"He's watched some of my videos," Steve explained. "And he really doesn't like any of the ones where I get hurt. I'm worried he'll be bitter towards you guys." 

"That's valid," Sam noted. "I still think you two should come."

  
  
  


\----------------------------

  
  


That night, Steve lay on Bucky's chest, his fingers playing loosely with his still-wet hair. "Hey Buck? Do you have any plans tomorrow night?"

  
  


\----------------------------

  
  


Bucky agreed to go, but as they got closer, he seemed to get more nervous. His fingers fluttered on the steering wheel, his movements jerky and unsure. 

Steve put his hand high up on Bucky’s thigh. “You good?”

Bucky huffed. “Fine.”

“Would you feel better if I told you about the amazing thank you sex I’m gonna give you when we get home?”

Bucky tilted his head to the side, his hands stilling. “Maybe. ‘Thank you sex’?”

“You’re putting yourself in an awkward situation just because I asked you to,” Steve explained agreeably. “I think that deserves some thank you sex.”

“Okay. Is thank you sex usually fast or slow?”

“It can be whatever you want.”

Bucky nodded slowly, eyes still trained on the road. “Okay, then maybe we could do something rough. Maybe you could go inside first and get your collar out. Then, after I put the collar on you, you can take my boots off for me. How does that sound?”

Steve blinked a few times, taken aback. “It sounds… like a scene. Like, an actual Dom/sub scene. Have you been watching porn behind my back?”

Bucky shrugged, a little smile playing at his lips. “I may have been reading more about Dom/sub stuff. Um, Sam recommended some articles. Did I do it right?”

_ This man,  _ Steve thought, shaking his head. “Well, now I’m hard, so I guess you could say that.”

Bucky laughed, his eyes bright. “Really? I haven’t even gotten to the sex yet!”

“Surprise me,” Steve said, feeling bold. “Also, we’re only a few minutes out and I don’t think I want to go inside with a bulge in my pants.”

  
  


————————————

  
  


Some of Bucky’s nervousness came back when they parked and saw all the cars around, but Steve took his hand, giving it a little squeeze, and that seemed to help. 

Inside, the party was already in full swing. It wasn’t a huge party, not the type of cheap high school thing that always showed up in movies, but there were some people Steve didn’t know, and a table with various drinks available. Steve gave the room a quick sweep, noticing a few people he’d done scenes with, a few people he  _ wanted  _ to do scenes with, and a few outliers. One notable outlier: Doctor Strange’s boyfriend, Tony. He was in some sort of engineering business, and was sitting at Strange’s side, wearing red tinted glasses and talking emphatically with Peter. Another notable outlier: a group of women surrounding one couch and laughing loudly. 

Steve grabbed Bucky’s hand and pulled him that way, because he had a feeling he recognized one of those laughs. Sure enough, as soon as he got there, one of the women wearing a latex corset tilted her head up to see him past her conductor’s hat, smiling broadly. Her lips were done up in deep red lipstick— Bésame, in red velvet, of course. 

Peggy Carter. 

“Peggy!” Steve exclaimed, throwing his arms open. “No one told me you’d be here!” 

Peggy leaped to her feet, embracing Steve in a tight hug. “Oh, yes Darling, I’m in town for the week! I was going to call! How do you know Sam?”

“I work for him,” Steve said, giddy. He was vaguely aware of a presence at his back, and his brain quickly shifted into gear, stepping aside to gesture at Bucky. “Shit, sorry. Pegs, this is my boyfriend Bucky. Bucky, this is Peggy.”

Bucky shook her hand, giving her a polite smile. “How do you know Steve?”

Peggy scoffed, shaking her head dramatically. “Oh, we went to school together. What a disaster, Steve was the absolute  _ biggest  _ slut—”

“Peggy!”

Peggy gave Bucky a secretive look, her painted lips pulling up in a smirk. “But then again, I wasn’t necessarily an  _ angel _ myself. I started getting into the scene, and I ended up dragging Stevie here along with me. In fact, I’m probably the one who got him caught up in this whole mess in the first place.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes, making a comically serious face. “Oh, so  _ you’re  _ the one to blame.”

Both Steve and Peggy burst out in laughter. “No Bucky, don’t get mad at her!” Steve insisted, still grinning like an idiot. “It was inevitable. Besides, she didn’t even get me into porn, just kink. I got into porn all by myself.”

Peggy fluttered her lashes. “Yes, I can’t quite take credit for that. Last I heard, Steve was only cam-ing—what changed?”

“I met Sam,” Steve explained. 

Bucky nudged him subtly. “What’s cam-ing?”

Steve felt himself blush just a little. “Oh. Um. Masturbating in front of your webcam in front of a live audience.”

Bucky just stared at him in shock for a moment. Then, he gave one single, stiff nod. “Of course it is. Of course you would.”

“I didn’t have a huge audience, though,” Steve added, deciding to clarify. “So I wasn’t making all that much. I definitely make more now.” 

“I would hope so,” Bucky grumbled, before seeming to catch himself. “Sorry. I don’t mean to be rude.” 

Peggy patted his arm sweetly. “Don’t worry, you’re a dear. I take it you’re still getting used to all of this?”

Bucky laughed. “Yeah, that’s one way to put it. Stevie and I are still working out some of the… erm… the kinks.”

Steve snorted, and Peggy gave him a knowing look. “Oh, aren’t we  _ all.” _

_ _ “So,” Steve said, deciding to change the subject, “Pegs, what’ve you been up to? Are you fulfilling all of your domme-y dreams?”

Peggy smiled sweetly. “Yes, indeed. I switched to professional eight months ago, and I’m having the time of my life.”

“Professional?” Bucky clarified. 

“Professional domming,” Peggy explained. “You know dom/sub dynamics? I used to Dom people just for fun, but now I’m working out of my apartment to Dom paying customers. It’s  _ quite  _ the lucrative career.”

Bucky blinked a few times, then opened his mouth in a silent ‘O’. “Oh. I see.”

Peggy narrowed her eyes slightly, then gave Steve a little wink. “I’m sure you’ll answer any additional questions your beau may have, yes? You’re a doll, we should definitely get together sometime before I leave Friday.”

Steve promised Peggy they would, and then took his leave and extracted himself from the group of women with Bucky in tow. Once they’d moved away, he gave Bucky a knowing smile. 

Bucky frowned. “What? You only look at me like that when you’re laughing at me behind my back.” 

“You were acting a little funny about Peggy’s job,” Steve explained, careful to avoid words like ‘rude’ and ‘condescending’. “Buck, she’s not a hooker.”

“She isn’t? Then what does she mean by people paying to come to her apartment so she can… so she can  _ dom  _ them?”

“You can Dom someone without having sex,” Steve said. “Also, this is a pretty open space. Our jobs aren’t secrets, or embarrassments. Buck, Peggy’s _ brilliant,  _ she’s not doing this as a last resort option. You don’t have to act like her job’s some dirty secret.”

“Sorry. Sorry,” Bucky said, looking genuinely embarrassed. 

Steve took pity on him, going up on his tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. “You’re absolutely perfect; a dream come true.”

Bucky made a pleased noise, hugging him closer. “Aw sweetheart, you must be looking in mirrors again.”

  
  


—————————————

  
  


Bucky stayed close as Steve went around, catching up with different people and introducing Bucky. Sam slid by at one point, patting Bucky on the back and talking with them for a few minutes before skating away to keep being a host. “C’mon Sam, you work too hard!” Steve insisted. 

“I’ll rest when I’m dead!” Sam yelled back, already ducking back into the kitchen. 

They ended up drifting that way, which lead to them running into Rumlow. Steve was extremely excited to see him— they hadn’t actually seen each other since the fight, which was really abnormal— and Rumlow ended up picking him up when he hugged him. “Hey Sweetass, where’ve you been?”

“Where have I been, where have  _ you  _ been?”

It turned out that Rumlow actually was out of a town for a week, and then besides that their schedules just didn’t line up. Hopefully, things would be back to normal now— they were still due to re-shoot the ruined scene from earlier. 

They were talking with Rumlow’s hands on his hips, a normal, natural way for them to stand, but after a minute of that Bucky cleared his throat, pulling Steve back. He subtly (not subtly) pushed Steve behind him, standing up straighter like some sort of wolf trying to make itself more intimidating. “Rumlow.”

“Bucky,” Rumlow said, with a sense of familiarity that wasn’t quite precedented. “Hey, how’ve you been? You’ve been keeping Stevie in line?”

That seemed to take Bucky slightly aback, making his next words not quite as aggressive. “I’ve— yeah. Sure. And I’m guessing, Sam’s been keeping you in line?”

Rumlow laughed, patting him on the shoulder. “Yeah man, you get it. Look, I have to go get some more beer from the back, but we should talk more later, yeah? And Stevie, make sure to harass Sam about another scene!” 

He snuck around them, giving Steve a quick slap on the ass before ducking towards the back door. Bucky looked like he wasn’t sure whether to follow him, or sweep Steve up in his arms like a damsel in distress, but before he could do either, Steve put a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t bother; he’s just teasing you.”

Bucky huffed. “He’s an asshole.”

“He’s  _ Rumlow _ ,” Steve corrected. “And, he actually is a sweetheart. You’ve only seen him in damning situations.”

“Yeah, well, he’s not exactly  _ trying _ to make me like him more.” 

After that, they talked to a few more people before settling down on one of the couches. There wasn’t much room available, so Bucky sat in the empty space beside Peter, and Steve sat sideways on his lap, his back resting against the armrest and his feet tucked under Peter’s legs. Steve had had one beer while they were socializing earlier, and just finished another one off. “Imma get another,” he said decidedly, trying to slide off Bucky’s lap. Bucky caught him, pulling him back and taking the empty bottle from him. “How about you wait a few minutes, Hmm?”

Steve made a face. “Why would I even do that?”

“Because you’re a lightweight,” Bucky reminded him. “And because I want you to be coherent enough to fulfill our plans for later.”

Steve made a pleased sound in the back of his throat. He’d forgotten about their plans for getting home, how Bucky was going to try being more of a dom.  _ Bucky _ was going to  _ make Steve _ take his  _ boots _ off for him. It was fucking sexy. 

Steve nuzzled up against Bucky’s neck, content. He relaxed there as Peter started up a conversation with Bucky, their voices both soft and familiar enough for him to doze off, not sleeping, but definitely daydreaming. He only came back when he heard Bucky scoff disapprovingly. 

"Hmm?" He mumbled, looking between the two. Peter grinned slyly, waiting for Bucky to explain. 

"Peter just called me a jealous dom," Bucky said. "Which, first of all I'm not really your dom, and also, I'm not jealous!" 

Steve chuckled. "Oh, you sweet, dumb man. Remember how you acted with Rumlow earlier? You're jealous." 

"That's different."

"It's because Rumlow's a threat," Peter cut in. "He's another alpha male type-- like Bucky. Bucky knows you're attracted to that body type, so he sees him as a threat." 

Steve rolled his eyes, about to argue, when he caught on to Peter's meaning. " _ Ohh,  _ right. In which case, he wouldn't be jealous if say, I made out with another small, stubby person, because he wouldn't see that as a threat. Right baby?" 

Bucky hummed. "I mean, I guess so." 

"See? I solved all your problems," Peter said amicably. "Steve, should we test it?" 

"I think so." 

Before Bucky could ask what they meant, Steve slid smoothly off of his lap and onto Peter's, sitting with his knees straddling his hips. Peter caught Steve's face in hand, and they paused for a moment, smiling sweetly at each other, before leaning in and kissing. 

Peter was a rather pleasant person to kiss, Steve decided. His kisses were slow, but sloppy and wet, the type that would look really good on camera. The only other time they'd done this was on camera, in the two or so scenes they'd done together. Sub on sub scenes were always nice: they were slower than rough domination scenes, and had a more innocent feel to them. Steve and Peter were both strictly bottoms, so in the scenes they'd done there was only light penetration from buttplugs. Usually, the main focus was on light pleasure play-- kissing, nipple sucking, and relaxed hand or blowjobs. They were nice scenes to perform in, especially after a long week. 

They kissed for a few moments, enjoying the shared memories, before Steve was gently pulled back and manhandled back onto Bucky's lap. "Rude," Bucky said playfully, booping Steve on the nose. "Bad." 

"Bite me," Steve responded, and immediately was met with a nip on the neck. He shrieked, pushing Bucky's face away, but was grinning. "You're so mean!" 

"You told me to bite you!" Bucky defended. "I was just respecting your wishes." 

"Respect my  _ ass."  _

"Don't worry snookums, I already do." 

There was some commotion on the other side of the room, and Steve turned to see what it was. Rumlow had just planted a big kiss on Sam's cheek, saying "Oh,  _ snookums.  _ How are you, my big ol'  _ cuddly bear? _ I love you so much,  _ sweetie pie.  _ Come on, butterfly kiss me." 

Sam and Rumlow rubbed their noses together, making incomprehensible cooing noises. Steve huffed, trying to hide his smile. "Hey, don't hate us 'cause you ain't us." 

"Did someone just say something, pookie-pie?" Sam asked, rubbing his face against Rumlow's exaggeratedly. 

"I don't think so, babycakes," he replied. 

"You're both bad people," Steve declared. "Ain't that right, honeybuns?" 

"Sure is, kitten." 

Steve facepalmed, and around the room people  _ ooh _ -ed. Bucky looked surprised. "Don't tell me kittens are a kink too!" 

Steve patted his cheek softly. His poor, sweet, ignorant lover. "Honey,  _ everything's  _ a kink." 

  
  


\---------------------------

  
  


All in all, the night was a success. Bucky got to be around other sex workers, he and Rumlow were able to be civil, and no one was bitter to Bucky about ruining their scene. And of course, once they got back home, they had some of the best sex of their relationship. Steve wore his collar and got to kneel in front of Bucky to take his boots off for him, which was hot as  _ fuck,  _ and then without warning Bucky bent him over the counter and fingered him. They ended up fucking on the couch, with Bucky sitting normally and Steve riding him as they touched and kissed. When they finished, Bucky didn't have to say another before rolling them over and pulling a blanket up to cuddle under. 

"God, you're just… the best," Steve whimpered, cuddling back against him. "You're my  _ favorite.  _ Love you so much." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter:  
\- the boys worked on making porn work  
\- piss play conversation   
\- collar sex  
\- the party  
\- jealous Bucky (with Brock and Peter)  
\- kitten
> 
> Have a nice day ❤


	6. Chapter 6

The weekend after that, Steve and Bucky went to the rock concert they'd bought tickets for online. It was a group of a couple of small, minimally-known bands, but they were excited. Once Bucky got home, they both got dressed up, wearing layers of black and leather. Steve ended up wearing leather shorts over fishnets, his knee high platform boots, and a leather harness over his shirt. As a last touch, he added his black leather collar. 

When Bucky got done dressing up, he looked good enough to eat, wearing leather pants instead of shorts, with a broader harness over his chest, one that accentuated his size. The whole outfit was made to make him look strong, capable. 

_ Dominant.  _

Bucky seemed to have some sort of reaction to Steve's own getup, but before he could do anything about it, Steve caught ahold of one of his belt loops. He pulled him into the living room and shoved him onto the couch, where he knelt before him, reverently lacing up his shoes for him. When he was done, Bucky ran a hand through Steve's hair, massaging his scalp and making him groan. "Sweet kitten."

He kneeled up, preening. "I got you something."

Bucky looked excited, so Steve scurried up, going into the other room. He retrieved the box, then came back and got back into the same position, handing the box over. "You said you liked the idea, and so I thought, what the hell. I don't know if you were serious-- and this isn't really normal, so if you think it's weird, that's fine--"

Bucky opened the box, and made a tiny, incomprehensible noise. Steve held his breath. 

With careful hands, Bucky lifted the leather collar out of the box. It wasn't anything special, just a basic leather strap that attached with a basic, modern latching mechanism. Aside from some metal circles every few inches, it was free of embellishment. 

"I like it," Bucky said softly. "You wanna put it on me?" 

Steve nodded, climbing into his lap to get a better angle. He latched the collar on, then started peppering kisses around Bucky's neck, biting down for a moment. Bucky moaned, waiting until Steve let go to push him back. He grinned. "Sweetheart, we're gonna be late."

Steve whined, but nodded. "Alright." 

They went to add the final touches to their outfits, smearing black greasepaint around their eyes and grabbing their jackets. As the very last touch, Steve grabbed his latex conductor's hat. It was inspired by the one Peggy had worn at the party-- okay, fine, it  _ was  _ the one Peggy had worn at the party. Steve may have, possibly,  _ definitely  _ stolen it. 

They went to the concert, with Bucky driving like he preferred to. Once there, they got a lot of stares, which only pleased the exhibitionist in Steve. They weren't even the weirdest ones dressed up-- though not everyone dressed up. 

When it came time for the actual music, they jumped and stomped with the crowd, singing along as loud as they could to the songs they knew, and making up words for the ones they didn't. 

A few times, when the lights were shifting and the bass was pounding against every molecule of Steve’s body, he turned to look at Bucky, illuminated in the black light. He wouldn’t say anything— Bucky probably wouldn’t hear if he did— but in that moment, he knew, for a fact, there was no place he’d rather be. And maybe that was scary, maybe him and Bucky were moving too fast and needed to learn how to pace themselves, goddamnit, but Steve didn’t care. He didn’t care. Because this— this was all he’d ever wanted. 

  
  


————————————

  
  


**Bucky **

The next day, Bucky had a short workday, so was home around mid-afternoon. He had enough time to plop down and read for half an hour before Steve yanked the door open, marched inside, and proceeded to flop on top of him.

“Don’t touch my ass,” Steve muttered, squeezing his eyes tight. His body was warm on Bucky’s lap, and instantly, he was reminded of a cat. Huh. Maybe he should look into that kink. 

He pet Steve’s hair absently, replaying what Steve had just said. “Why don’t you want me to touch your ass?”

“I just got fisted,” Steve clarified, helpfully. Helpfully. 

_ Fisted.  _ Jesus Christ. Bucky tried to continue stroking Steve’s hair at a normal pace. “Fisted. Huh.”

He could imagine it. Steve, kneeling in their bed with his knees spread and his face to the bedspread as Bucky pushed two, three, four fingers inside, spreading them, twisting his wrist, lube dripping down Steve’s thighs—

“My asshole will never go back to its original shape,” Steve said, eyes wide open as he tried to accept this new fate. “It’s going to be stretched out for all eternity. I’m only going to be able to have oral from this point on. Or worse, I’ll be forced to top someone else. God, I don’t want to top someone else, do these thighs look like the kind of thighs that could fuck?”

“Maybe not fuck,” Bucky observed, pinching one of Steve’s thighs. “But they probably could  _ be  _ fucked.”

“It wasn’t a normal sized fist either, no-sir-ee. It’s was  _ Sam’s  _ fist. Do you know how big Sam’s fists are? I thought I was going to prolapse.”

Bucky frowned. Prolapse was very, very bad. “Seriously?” 

Steve huffed. “No _ .  _ Not really, I trust Sam, and he knows what he’s doing. But seriously, I’m done having sex. No more sex for a month, you hear me?”

“I hear you,” Bucky said, resuming stroking Steve’s hair. “It’s alright. I found this great new pornstar online named  _ Grant Tanner,  _ and I’m pretty sure he’s got a new fisting scene coming out—”

He didn’t even finish his sentence before Steve was tickling him mercilessly, jabbing his fingers in his side and making him howl, “You little shit!”

(It is relevant to note that later that night, Steve blew Bucky. It is also relevant to note that Steve’s hole was already nearly back to its normal size when he got home, and was completely normal by the time he woke up the next morning. After which, he and Bucky had morning sex. It just so happened that Steve had the slightest flair for the dramatic.)

  
  


———————————

  
  


**Steve **

Things worked out, and Bucky seemed to get more and more used to Steve’s work with every passing week. They had one small hiccup, where Steve had to ask Bucky not to watch  _ every single _ video of his that was posted, but Bucky agreed readily enough. Steve didn’t mind him watching his scenes, but he didn’t want him to obsess over them either. 

Sometimes, they talked about what he did, but more often than not they just continued their routine from before. The only difference between then and now was stronger trust and communication, so really, there was no reason for everything to get screwy. 

Well, there was  _ one  _ other thing that changed, and that was their sexual relationship. Bucky was starting to get more and more comfortable with kink, learning about the types of things that would be expected of him if he wanted to try out a Dom role. They established a mutual safeword (‘red’), and started pushing their play a little more, using some of Steve’s vibrators and extending their foreplay out longer. It seemed like Bucky was enjoying the changes; Steve definitely was.

Steve thought of this as he cleaned himself up, preparing for his next scene. He was at the House for filming, getting ready for a scene with tape restraints and humiliation. The scene was going to be with Loki, who Steve had only met once, and never done a scene with, but he’d seen other scenes. Loki could be intense, but he knew what he was doing. 

They were to meet up in the second bedroom, where the lights were already adjusted, casting a more ominous glow while still allowing them to be properly lit. Steve hung around near the edges, waiting for Loki to come in. He didn’t have to wait long, for the door opened to reveal the man speaking in a hushed voice with someone out in the hallway.

  
“This really isn’t a good time,” the dom was saying, his arms crossed and his eyes slightly narrowed. “I’m about to do a scene; that’s where my head needs to be. Look, we’ll talk about it later, alright? Honestly, I just can’t and shouldn’t deal with that right now.”

“But,” the other person started, however Loki shook his head.

“I need to focus on this now,” the dom insisted softly. “Please? We’ll talk about it, okay? But if I’m going to do this scene, I need to set that aside for now. Now go on, before I call Brock on you. Really, Thor, talking is going to make it worse, not better, now go on, and I’ll be along when this is through.”

The other voice in the hall chuckled, but they seemed to agree. After another moment of quiet talking, the door was shut and Loki took a deep breath, in and out, to center himself before he marched over to Steve.Some people liked to kiss before a scene, or do something else to establish trust before getting into character. Loki just gave a tight lipped smile, took his hand, and said “Sorry about that. Ready?”

Steve peered at the door, however Loki’s voice and expression were both even, so Steve nodded and declared “Let’s do this.”

Steve had a list of things he was and wasn’t okay with, with additional notes on what he needed for aftercare, so he knew Loki knew what he needed, even if they hadn't had the conversation themselves. Steve already knew that Loki wouldn't check in throughout the scene for consent, as that would break up the shot and the contract was already drawn up as to what was appropriate, plus Steve had a safe word and gesture for if he needed the scene to pause. 

The camera operators were about ready-- two of them, for this shoot-- so Steve stepped onto the set. "Should I start naked?" He asked. 

Loki looked him over, then nodded. "It's probably for the best."

Steve stripped down, aware of Loki's lingering gaze. Then he stepped onto the set, and the cameramen called action. 

Steve looked up to Loki expectantly; this was his game now. In a moment, Loki's entire demeanor shifted, going from a casual man, to something a lot more powerful. Steve's smile fell. 

(And his dick hardened.)

"Kneel on the bed," Loki commanded, looking away. Steve climbed onto the king mattress, getting in position with his hands on his thighs innocently. He wanted to be good, show Loki what he could do. Loki waved his finger in a circle, his tone apathetic. "Turn around. Ass up, face down. Really, you should be used to this by now." 

Steve let out a little noise at the humiliation, and followed the order. He'd already stretched some, so when he spread his knees the cool air seemed to seem inside him, making his walls tingle slightly. 

Loki put a hand on Steve's rump, squeezing it once and then slapping it. "Hm." He did the same to the other side, his grip searching, but not lavishing. He wasn't touching Steve because of any attraction; he was touching him like he was a thawed out steak, and he wanted to see whether he was worth his money. 

Steve bit his lip. That was a little different from what he liked, he was into humiliation, not dehumanisation. But it was just a scene, and Steve  _ was  _ reading into it a little too much. He forced himself to relax into his role, sinking in deeper to the physical and mental stretch. 

Loki reached under, groping Steve's dick and balls for just long enough to make him twitch before pulling away. He slapped Steve's ass again, one side, then the other, and then groped his dick. Again. Again. He fell into such a natural rhythm that Steve started moving his hips with it, like falling into the beat of a song. 

Loki broke the rhythm by sticking two lubed fingers in him, making him cry out. He curled his fingers harshly, waited for Steve to stop squirming, and then pulled them out to resume his rhythm again.  _ Slap, squeeze, slap, squeeze, grope, pull, release. Slap, squeeze, slap, squeeze, grope, pull, release. _

_ _

_ _ He stuck his fingers in again and Steve whined, though not as loud as the time before. "Please--" 

"Quiet," Loki commanded, and Steve snapped his jaw shut. He'd be good. He'd be good. 

Loki continued the rhythm for another minute before pulling Steve back. For a moment, Steve was completely unbalanced, his arms flailing, before Loki caught him in his lap. "Stupid thing," Loki commented, voice like butter. "You have no trust, do you?" 

Steve pouted and tried to bury his face in Loki's shirt. Loki took him by the hair, pulling him away and making him fall forwards. Steve made a bratty sound of protest, and Loki grabbed him by his hair again, this time pulling  _ back,  _ making Steve work his abs to sit up instead of letting his hair take the full force of the movement. Loki pulled him back in his lap, keeping his head yanked back harshly. "Naughty, naughty," he hummed. Steve tried to grind back against him, show him just how naughty he could be, when Loki slapped him across the face. "Stop that." 

Steve stopped. He held still, not really sure what to do with his body, until Loki pushed him back onto the mattress. "Stay." 

Loki got off the bed, getting some of his supplies while Steve did his best to impersonate a dead fish. He would do whatever he had to to make his dom happy. 

But the bed was cold, and Steve's skin itched for contact. He tried whining again, but all it got him was another slap to his already red ass. "Shut up." 

Steve tried as hard as he could to stay silent and still. To keep his erection up, he imagined kneeling in a corner, a buttplug vibrating away, even as he was ordered not to come. 

"Okay," Loki said, bringing Steve's attention back to reality. "I know you're too dumb to be able to follow my orders, so I'll just have to help you, won't I?" 

Loki pried open Steve's jaw for him, pushing a cloth inside before taping over it. A little jitter ran through Steve's body-- gags that forced the mouth open were on his very, very,  _ very  _ green list-- and he mumbled his thanks. Loki stood, slapped him on the ass, and moved away again. 

There was some more talking, maybe Loki explaining what he was going to do next, but Steve was too far gone to try and hear. The rhythm from earlier had pushed him towards a quick subspace, and now that Steve had his gag, he was pretty sure he was there. He sucked at the cloth in his mouth, letting his eyes flutter shut. 

From the side of the bed, Loki took Steve's left leg and bent it against his thigh. It was a light stretch, but Steve could handle it, especially when it was coupled with touch. It had felt really good to be in Loki's lap-- why couldn't he have that now?

Loki started wrapped tape around his leg, keeping it bent completely over so his foot brushed against his bare ass. It required some maneuvering, but Loki got it to work without trouble. After all, why would he have trouble? Steve was a pile of melted tofu in the middle of the bed, sticky and pliable. He would move in any way his dom requested of him, hold whatever position. 

His other leg was bound in the same position, and then he was unceremoniously flipped on his back. He squinted up at the bright lights, thinking that it was too much, Loki should dim them. Steve would sleep if he could, let Loki finger him and fuck him raw as he dozed. Loki could do whatever he wanted-- as long as he started touching Steve. 

Loki took Steve's arm, bending it at the elbow and making him rest his hand against his shoulder before starting to tape that up too. Steve squirmed and wriggled, but Loki just slapped him again. "It’s as if my words go right through you, little whore. If you won't stay still, I'll just have to make you." 

Steve yelped as Loki pinched both of his nipples, pulling them upwards and away from his chest. He squealed through the gag, lashing out with his free arm, which just made it hurt  _ more.  _ Finally, he learned his lesson, going completely still so his movements wouldn't tug at them at all. Loki didn't up for one… two…

"There we are," he said primely, releasing him. Steve let out a muffled whine, but stayed still. "You know, I wouldn't have to punish you if you were just  _ obedient."  _

Obedient, yes. Steve could be obedient. He could, damnit! 

Loki wrapped up his other arm, then without warning, started tickling him. Steve shrieked, wiggling to try to escape it, but he couldn't! He kicked out, but his legs and arms were bound to themselves, restricting his movements and making them stubby. Loki laughed, continuing to tickle him before pulled back altogether. Steve groaned, arching his hips up needily. Why wouldn't he just touch him? Did Steve really not even deserve that?

Loki went through a few different scenes of play, always where he gave Steve a brief flash of touch only to pull away. He jerked Steve's cock until he was twitching, then pulled away, leaving him for a minute to recover. He traced Steve's lips through the gag, smoothed a hand over his cheek, then smacked him, replacing the warmth with sharpness. He got out a riding crop, slapping Steve on the inner thighs and arms, before making him get into an all fours position and slapping his ass brutally. Being on all fours with his limbs bound was different than simply being in a position to crawl-- his balance was different, his knees digging into the bedspread. Loki slapped him fifteen times, then moved away without saying anything. It was like sensory deprivation, but Steve could still see. 

It wasn't until the fourth time Loki teased him with touch then pulled away that Steve started feeling sick. His stomach was turning, his head numb. 

Loki shocked him on the side, making him roll and squirm away. Loki knocked him off balance, his restraints making it hard to get back up. Loki fingered him open, then pulled away and didn't return until Steve had started to close back up.

Then, Loki tied Steve up, suspending him in the air with his limbs still hopelessly bound. He blindfolded him, rubbing his knuckles over the gag, and then left. 

Steve flinched hard when he felt cool lube against his hole. It was the type that stayed cold, for extra sensation. Loki pushed three fingers in with the stuff, gave him a few pumps, then backed off, leaving Steve's hole frigid and stinging. He came back, repeated it. Called Steve a slut. A fuck hole.  _ Useless.  _

"It's a good thing you're tied up like this," he said, his tone still so light, so  _ uncaring.  _ "Otherwise, you'd just keep trying and  _ failing _ to do what you're told. All you're good at is a fuck hole, and you're not even good at that."

Steve's face burned with shame. His face was mostly covered by the gag and the blindfold, but the tips of his ears were cold, why were they cold? His dick hung limply towards the ground, the natural blood flow keeping it from going flaccid. Loki wasn't touching him, wasn't talking to him, and for a moment Steve wondered if he was dreaming. Surely, that was the only situation that could make him feel  _ this _ lightheaded, ungrounded and uncertain. He was a good sub, right? He could be good. 

Right? 

In the end, Loki didn't even fuck him, just took a dildo and reamed him out with it. He twisted it, going until he found Steve's prostate to torture him with it. If Loki wasn't going to fuck him, then Steve needed to come, it wasn't a question. Loki would keep going until he came. 

A vibrator pushed against his cock and he sobbed, tears falling for the first time since the scene started. He sobbed, and Loki didn't pull away, didn't try to edge him anymore. He just fucked him. He fucked him cold, managing to do it without even touching him. It was probably a great show. That's all this was-- an  _ act.  _

And Loki didn't even want to fuck him. 

No, screw that. Loki didn't even want to  _ touch him.  _ He saw Steve's skin, the blemishes, the discoloration, the  _ sweat,  _ and he didn't want to get his hands dirty. Steve understood. It made sense. 

He came without warning, the prostate stimulation and vibrator, mixed with all the foreplay making it easy. The implements moved away, and Steve let out another sob before Loki stroked up and down his rib cage, up and down. He was saying something-- Steve heard the word  _ fuck-bitch  _ in there somewhere-- and then someone was calling scene and Steve's blindfold was taken off. He squeezed his eyes shut. He wasn't going to throw up. 

He was lowered to the ground, blissed out and hazy. His gag was removed, and he smacked his lips dully. The ropes were undone, and then the tape. Steve's limbs were stretched out carefully, purposefully, but all Steve could think was how much he wanted Loki to stop it. The scene was over, they could end now. 

He just wanted it to be over. 

Once he was completely free, he was helped into a sitting position. The camera-men were talking casually to the side, saying things about editing and adjusting sound. 

Loki leaned in front of Steve, giving him a kind look. He was too close. "Hey, do you mind if I pick you up? Then I can carry you to the bed instead of making you walk. I don't exactly trust your legs right now." He laughed. Laughed. Laughed. 

He looked concerned. "Alright, I'm going to pick you up now, okay? We'll do extra long aftercare for that scene." He reached for him, and finally, Steve found his voice:

"Don't touch me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh 😨 drama drama 
> 
> In this chapter:  
\- Steve and Bucky went to the concert  
\- conversation about Steve getting fisted :)  
\- figuring out more porn stuff  
\- the scene gone wrong
> 
> Please comment and let me know what you think!


	7. Chapter 7

_ “Don’t touch me.” _

_ _ It was as if a ripple effect went through the room. At once, everything went quiet, and  _ everyone  _ looked at Steve. Loki retracted his hand, unsure. “Steve?”

“Don’t. Touch. Me.” Steve enunciated, narrowing his eyes. His legs were pulled up to his chest, and the room was  _ so fucking cold,  _ but the only blanket was on the bed and the only way he’d get it is if he agreed to let Loki hold him and he didn’t— wouldn’t—  _ refused—  _

_ _ Loki was talking again, but Steve wasn’t interested. He tried to push himself to his feet, but Loki was right, his legs weren’t strong enough and he stumbled. Loki caught him, but his touch burned against Steve’s bare skin. “I said don’t touch me! Red, you jackass, let go!” 

Loki let go, looking even more panicked at the use of safeword. Steve gave up on walking, and got back on the ground, crawling to sit against the corner, his knees pulled up to his chest. Why was everything so, so, so fucking  _ cold? _

_ _ Loki started talking  _ again,  _ but Steve was done listening. “Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up,” he chanted, and eventually. He did.

  
  


———————————

  
  


**Bucky**

  
  


Bucky was already in the car when he got the call. He answered it, steering with one hand, but prefaced “Hey, I’m driving right now, what’s—”

“Can you come over?” Sam asked, voice in a rush. “We need you here. Now, if you can.”

Bucky fumbled for the radio controls on his wheel, turning it all the way down. Sam was so level-headed, Bucky knew that for him to be panicked, it couldn’t be anything good. “Sam— yeah, I can be there.” He put on his turn signal, mentally rearranging his driving directions. “What happened? Is Steve—”

“He’s in subdrop,” Sam said, voice tight. “It’s… bad. He went into it right after his scene, didn’t accept any aftercare. He ended up yelling at his dom, and now— just get here, alright? How long will you be?”

“Ten minutes,” Bucky promised. “Have you tried talking to him?”

“Yeah man, I’ve  _ tried  _ just about everything I could think of. He doesn’t want me, and Brock’s at the store. I’m gonna hang up now, they’re needing my help, but get here. We’re in the first bedroom on your right.”

The call disconnected, and Bucky threw his phone on the passenger seat. He checked around him, then pushed harder on the accelerator, speeding up. He wasn’t going to make Steve wait a  _ second  _ longer than he had to.

  
  


———————————

  
  


When Bucky got to the house, he ran to the door, opening it without knocking. He marched down the hallway, shoving someone aside who was loitering, and pushed into the room Sam had specified. The lights were dimmed, the giant cameras off. A few people were talking in the corner, sounding concerned, but they went completely silent at the sight of Bucky. Sam was in that group, and he gestured towards the opposite corner. 

Bucky stepped all the way inside, turning to see the small figure curled up there. When Sam had said it was bad, he hadn’t been kidding— Steve was curled into a tight ball, his face against his knees. His breath was shaky, though that may have just been because he was shivering immensely. He was also completely naked. 

There was a bed in the room, which made the whole situation somehow feel a whole lot sketchier, but Bucky pointedly didn’t think about that. He simply stripped a blanket from it and marched to Steve, who looked up at the sound of footsteps. And Bucky… Bucky’d never seen him like that. He looked absolutely wrecked, his eyes rimmed with red, his expression a harsh mask of defiance, ready to snap or yell or scream or do whatever was needed to keep everyone away from him. When he saw Bucky, he set his jaw, but didn’t say anything. Bucky decided that was about as good as he was going to get, and came right up to Steve, sitting so close their legs nearly— but didn’t— brush. 

“Hey sweet thing,” he whispered, trying to casually look him over for injuries. “How’re you feeling?”

Steve shifted uncomfortably, crossing his arms tighter. He looked down. “‘M cold.”

Bucky smiled encouragingly. “I can help with that.”

He had the blanket, but it didn’t seem like enough, not with Steve as naked as he was, so Bucky pulled off his own shirt, helping Steve into it. Once the oversized shirt was on, he scooted in close to Steve and wrapped the blanket around them both. “There we go, how does that feel?”

It must have been pretty damn good, as Steve instantly parkoured his way into Bucky’s lap, hiding his face against Bucky’s shoulder. For a second, Bucky thought he was shivering again, until he felt the wetness on his shoulder. Steve was crying. 

“Oh, sweet boy,” Bucky muttered, brows furrowing in concern. “Baby cakes, that’s alright. You’re perfect, okay? Absolutely perfect, go ahead and get it out if you need to. That’s alright. I’m so glad you’re okay, you know that? And I know it must feel pretty bad right now, but I promise I’ll spend the rest of the day making sure everything’s better if you need that. Or if you want space, I’ll give you that too, but I know how much my Stevie likes to be held.” 

“ _ Bucky,” _ Steve sobbed, and Bucky shushed him, rubbing his back. 

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m here now, you’ll be just fine.”

Steve let out another choked up noise, rubbing his face against Bucky’s chest. “No, no,  _ Bucky.  _ Buck, I feel like… I feel like  _ shit.  _ I don’t want to feel like this, I don’t wanna—” 

It was around that point that some of Bucky’s crippling empathy turned to anger. Whoever  _ dared  _ do this to Steve was going to pay. He looked at the men across the room again, trying to figure out which one of them it was. He would take care of his Stevie first, but after…

Steve had stopped shaking, so Bucky made himself refocus his attention on him. “Sweetheart, can you tell me what you need? What can I do to make you feel better?”

But Steve just shook his head, sniffling. “‘Don’t know.”

And that would be the  _ sub  _ part of subdrop. Bucky kept rubbing his back. “How about this. I’m going to get us some privacy, then I’ll help you get dressed and we can see about getting home, okay? How does that sound?”

Steve shrugged, so Bucky went ahead with the plan. He cleared everyone out— giving them the appropriate scalding looks as they went— and then picked Steve up, so he wouldn’t have to let him go while he looked for his clothes. A fresh set was folded behind one of the cameras, so Bucky snatched them up, and brought Steve to the bed to get dressed. Steve didn’t seem to want to part with his shirt, so he didn’t make him, just getting him into his boxers and sweatpants instead. “Is it okay if you wait until we get home to take a bath?” He asked, and Steve nodded. 

He picked Steve up again in a koala carry to walk out of the house. The other guys stared as they passed, but didn’t say anything, so Bucky didn’t have to kick any of their asses—  _ yet. _ He loaded Steve in his car, only to have Steve groan, hiding his face in his hands. 

“I left my phone inside,  _ ugh.  _ Why’m I such a fuck up?”

The cruel words made Bucky’s heart skip a few critical beats. Stevie—  _ his Stevie _ — did  _ not _ talk about himself like that. “I’ll go get your phone,” he promised. “And sweetie? I love you so much, alright? You are absolutely  _ not  _ a fuck up.”

Steve made a small sound and tucked his arms into his shirt, but didn’t try to argue, so Bucky decided he’d be fine to leave him there for a few minutes. He jogged inside, immediately going back to the room, when Sam intercepted him. “Hey! I was just going to try and catch you, you really think it’s a good idea to bring him home right away?”

“Yep,” Bucky said, popping the P. “Honestly, I don’t think I could stay here with him any longer.”

Sam’s expression went from light worry to extreme concern in about a second. “Um. I don’t— okay, you know what? Come with me.”

“Stevie’s in the car right now,” Bucky reminded him. 

“This’ll be fast.”

Sam brought him to one of the other rooms, a living area by the looks of it. There were two men sitting on a couch, one giant and blond, and the other slimmer, with long black hair. “You see the guy who’s crying?” Sam said, keeping quiet as not to disturb him. “That’s the Dom from Steve’s scene. Look, I can’t tell you a play-by-play of what went wrong, but I do know that it’s not what he intended. Loki’s a good guy.”

Bucky shook his head. None of it made sense and, Hell,  _ he  _ still didn’t know why Steve was so upset. But seeing the Dom cry did make his anger subside a bit. “Okay, fine. I see your point.”

Sam patted him on the shoulder, leading him back to the hallway. “Look, let me grab Steve’s phone, and a shirt for you. Then I’ll drive you two back, okay? You’re both emotional right now— don’t look at me like that Barnes— and if I drive, you can cuddle him in that back seat.”

“You could’ve just said that last part,” Bucky grumbled, already heading to the car to wait for Sam.

  
  


———————————

  
  


As planned, he and Steve cuddled the whole ride back. Bucky had never cuddled so intensely in a car before, but once Steve latched on with his tiny little fingernails, he didn’t seem to appreciate the idea of letting go. But in all honesty, Bucky really didn’t mind. 

Back home, Bucky ran the tub, filling it with hot water and bubbles, and filling up a glass of water to drink beside it. Then he and Steve stripped down and bathed together, continuing their cuddle-a-thon. In the back of his mind, Bucky knew Sam was loitering in their living room, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. At this point, there was no denying that he trusted Sam. Bucky had only seen him about four times, but three out of four of those times, he was acting as a complete savior. Hell, Bucky should probably get him a gift basket or something. 

The hot water managed to get Steve to finish relaxing, smoothing out his tight, tensed up muscles. Bucky got him to drink the glass of water he’d gotten him, and then before long Steve fell asleep on him. Bucky let them stay in the warmth for a few minutes longer before rousing Steve. He helped him dry off and get dressed, then tucked him into bed, promising to join him in a minute. 

Before Bucky could do that though, he went into the living room, where Sam was talking in hushed tones at the door. Rumlow had arrived to pick Sam up, and whatever darkness and guilt Bucky’d been feeling earlier was mirrored on Rumlow’s face. “How’s he doing?” Rumlow asked as soon as he saw him. 

Bucky pushed his shoulders back, crossing his arms. He may give Sam a fruit basket, but he still wasn’t going to give Rumlow a single moldy orange. “Fine. Better. But he’s sleeping now; you can’t see him.”

Rumlow nodded, not seeming surprised or even upset by Bucky’s tone. “Okay, well let us know if there’s anything we can do. If you need someone to drive and get him a smoothie or some shit, I’m your guy.”

Bucky nodded stiffly, trying to do everything possible not to take that as a personal attack. “Okay. Thanks.”

Rumlow nodded, then put a heavy hand on Sam’s shoulder. “You ready?”

“I’m ready,” he assured. “And Bucky— seriously, let us know. Anything you need, even advice. We’ve got you.”

Bucky nodded again, and gave Sam a little hug before shooing them out.

—————————

Back in the bedroom, Steve was almost already asleep. He roused when Bucky climbed into the bed with him, rolling over to cuddle up against his chest. “Mm. Love you.”

Bucky kissed him in the forehead, letting it linger a second longer than strictly necessary. “Yeah. Love you too, you little punk.”

Steve smiled, and was asleep within fifteen seconds. Bucky exhaled, then let himself smile too, and followed not long after.

  
  


——————————

  
  


The next morning, Bucky woke up before Steve and stayed in bed to research sub-drop more. He’d known about it from some of his earlier research, but hadn’t thought it’d be so relevant— or dramatic. 

Fifteen minutes later, Steve shifted next to him, scooting in close. His eyes stayed closed, but he hummed a pleasant “‘Morning, Buck.”

Bucky hummed back, petting Steve sweetly. “Hey baby. How’re you feeling?”

“A little shitty,” Steve admitted. “A little raw. But also a little horny, which I think is an excellent sign.” He sidled right up against Bucky, bumping his crotch against his leg subtly. He wasn’t hard really, and he didn’t look like he did when he was really horny— it was more like a bear scratching its back on a tree. The bear didn’t need it, and nothing dramatic would happen, but it felt good. 

Bucky went back to his research, scrolling with one hand and petting Steve with the other. “Are you supposed to have a scene today?”

Steve huffed, bumping his forehead against Bucky’s side. “No, thank God. I think I’ll just have a lazy day. I will have to call Sam and explain what happened, but I think I can wait until at least noon to do that.” 

Bucky nodded. “Do you think you could tell me now what happened yesterday? I mean, what went wrong?”

Steve sighed, relaxing a little more against Bucky’s body. “I think it all came down to word choice. Loki and I agreed on a scene with humiliation, but we had different ideas of what that meant. He was actually… harsh. He called me names and didn’t touch me, and when it comes to humiliation, I really need it to be a specific way. When I say I like humiliation, I mean I like being made fun of in a way that still makes me feel like I have worth. When Loki says humiliation, he actually meant dehumanization.” 

Bucky took a stilted breath, trying to imagine that. “Shit, baby. Sounds like I’ve gotta go pay Loki a visit.”

Steve snorted. “Please don’t. It wasn’t his fault— we didn’t communicate enough beforehand, and I should’ve safeworded when I realized things were wrong. He really did the best that he could.”

“Still,” Bucky insisted, “It’s not right.”

Bucky asked if Steve wanted him to stay with him for the day, but Steve insisted he was fine. Bucky kept a close eye on him as he made breakfast, but the sentiment seemed genuine, so he left for work at his normal time, kissing Steve on his way out.

  
  


————————————

  
  


Bucky came home precisely eight-and-a-half hours later, ready to fuck Steve into the mattress (assuming he felt ready for that), only to find their living room with one extra occupant. 

Steve was laying stomach-down on the couch, naked aside from his boxers, with his back glistening with lotion. He had a cool washcloth pressed to his eyes, and a content expression on his face. Over him stood the man from before with the long black hair and pale skin— Loki. 

Bucky walked inside cautiously, trying to figure out what exactly he’d just walked in on. Steve didn’t stir, but Loki bit his lip, patted Steve gently on the back. “Hey, Steve, your, uh, person is here.”

Steve yawned, stretched out like a cat, and then sat up, pulling the washcloth off his eyes. “Bucky!” He said, reaching out. Bucky decided that he  _ probably _ didn’t just walk in on his boyfriend cheating on him, and leaned in to give him a kiss. When he pulled back, Steve’s eyes seemed a lot brighter than before. “Bucky, this Loki, Loki, this is Bucky. Loki was just giving me a back rub.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow in question. “Okay?”

“It’s a Dom thing,” Loki explained. “When scenes go wrong, both partners can have a hard time recovering. Submissives tend to need affection and the feeling of being cared for, while Dominants tend to need to feel useful by taking care of their submissives. Steve was oh so generous in allowing me to come over and give him a free massage.”

Steve shrugged coyly. “What can I say? I’m a giver.”

Both Bucky and Loki snorted at that, which for the record, was weird. Loki barreled on regardless. “I’m glad that you’re feeling better, Steven, and that we figured out where the problems in our scene lied. Maybe in the future, we can try again.”

Steve nodded. “Yeah, maybe. Thanks again for the back rub!”

Loki and Bucky exchanged their stilted goodbyes, and then Steve lead him out, hugging him before he left. Once the door closed, it was just Steve and Bucky again. 

Bucky shook his head, going to the kitchen. He didn’t know if he was ever going to get used to Steve being close with every single other man they met. He was pretty sure the dom/sub thing made it even worse, because then Bucky couldn’t even pretend Steve was just having sex with other men, without any meaning. There was meaning, and there were rules, and there were all sorts of emotions all tied together that made every man Steve slept with feel like they had some sort of claim on him. It was… frustrating. 

Steve leaned against the counter, watching him. “You’re not mad, are you?”

Bucky took in a deep breath and let it out. “You know what? No, I’m not. I love you, and I trust you.” 

Steve smiled and slipped into Bucky’s arms, solidifying the fact that that was the right answer. “Thanks. It means a lot.”

Bucky purred, leaning in to give Steve that kiss. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against Steve’s. “Maybe just shoot me a warning text next time?”

Steve laughed and agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave me a comment if you enjoyed! Hope you're having a nice day :)

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think! If you have any questions regarding the accuracy of anything portrayed in this story, please let me know those as well, and I can clear any confusions up :)


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